


A Secret Set In Stone

by Ec1aire



Series: The Hidden Heir [2]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Assassination Attempt(s), Diplomacy, Drinks All Around, Dwarf/Human Relationship(s), Dysfunctional Family, Everyone lives, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Oh boy this is a long one, Original Character(s), Set immediately after the Hobbit, Thorin Isn't Always an Asshole, Weddings, Young Aragorn, eventual pregnancy, is that a spoiler?, ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:49:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 32,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28691979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ec1aire/pseuds/Ec1aire
Summary: The worst was over, or so they all believed. But ruling over Erebor was never going to be easy, and sometimes even the most peaceful of times can be wrought with unknown dangers. With her life as a Ranger at an end, Alana knew she would have a difficult task ahead of her. And being Queen of Erebor was just one of many challenges to come. Thorin/OFC. Book 2.
Relationships: Kíli (Tolkien)/Original Female Character(s), Thorin Oakenshield/Female Ranger, Thorin Oakenshield/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Hidden Heir [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103093
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. A New Life Begins

**Author's Note:**

> Well, here we go again! This is book number two in this series, so for those of you seeing this for the first time, I would HIGHLY recommend you go and read the first part of this series. For those returning, welcome back, and thanks! It was amazing reading all of your wonderful comments about the last part!
> 
> This fic is set post-BotFA, and spans over the course of roughly two years. Still haven't decided yet if there will be a part three, taking place during the Lord of the Rings... We'll see...
> 
> That's all from me, though, so I hope you enjoy!

It had been two months, the winter chill just beginning to fade away as February progressed, and yet Alana couldn't get used to the feeling of a feathery mattress beneath her. She had spent so long sleeping on the hard ground that the bed made her feel like she would just sink right to the floor. At first it had been fine – she had been far too exhausted to stop and notice the surface she was lying on. Now, that exhaustion was sneaking up on her again, because she hadn't been able to sleep for more than a few hours each night for at least eight weeks. Though perhaps her poor sleep was also, in part, due to the horrible nightmares she'd been getting.

She wasn't the only one, by any means. Most nights, before she fell asleep, she would hear someone else crying out or sobbing, and she would routinely get up from her bed, leave her room, find the room of the aforementioned dwarf, and carefully ease him into the waking world. Usually it was Fili or Kili, as they slept closest to her and were easiest to hear (not to mention they were so unused to such bloody violence), but she had on one occasion each also had to go into the rooms of Dwalin and Balin, and half a dozen times even to Thorin. Thorin's room was right next to hers, and hearing his reaction to his nightmares was always the worst. He, of everyone, was the only one to ever use words. Usually he was crying out for Fili or Kili, and sometimes her, but one time he'd cried out for his brother; for Frerin.

Upon seeing how utterly wrecked he was when he woke from that particular nightmare, she had refused to leave him to sleep alone, and so had crawled under the covers to lie next to him, easing him back into sleep. She didn't allow herself to rest that night, remaining a vigilant presence by his side, stroking his hair for hours on end to keep him calm. When morning came, no one commented about her presence in his room during the night. They all understood. 

The nightmares were starting to dwindle now, for everyone. The original shock had passed, and now the need to move on swept over them. They all knew they'd get nightmares about the battle for the rest of their lives, but at least it wouldn't happen quite so frequently. 

Besides the rather irritating lack of sleep, one of the biggest changes in her life was her peculiar friendship with Dain. He'd never explicitly stated that he approved of her relationship with Thorin, and she knew that he had at one point pulled Thorin aside to talk about it – at length apparently, based on how long they were gone – but neither was he openly against it. At odd moments in the day Alana would find herself being approached by the dwarf Lord, and while at first she thought it merely a coincidence, it had begun to happen so often that she wondered if he was actively seeking her out. She didn't mind in the slightest – Dain was gruff and boisterous to the extreme, but she respected him, and he her, and they got on quite well. At this point, she figured whether or not he approved was irrelevant – he trusted Thorin to make the right decision, and one day she was sure he would prove to be a steadfast ally in this, regardless of his own, unspoken opinion.

More and more dwarves were trickling in to Erebor with each passing day, some coming in large groups, others wandering in pairs or even on their own. According to Thorin, a lot of dwarves had decided to make their homes in the wildlands both west and east of the Misty Mountains, living in secluded areas. Others had taken refuge in Dunland, which itself was almost a two month journey from Erebor. They weren't expecting the caravans from the Blue Mountains for another several weeks, as it was a long journey even for those used to travelling such distances, and with numbers against them, the dwarves would be moving slowly.

Despite the slow start, life was beginning to return to Erebor. Thorin insisted on meeting with each of the residents personally within their first few days of arrival, asking questions about their families and their jobs, their interests and hobbies. Then he would make a note of each, and focus on making his people as happy as they could be. The things with the greatest number of workers or interest in them were the first to be rebuilt and repaired, allowing the dwarves to restart their lives as soon as possible.

The mines had been checked over to see how safe they were – to which the answer was very positive – and the forges had been running constantly since Smaug had lit them (the fact that they were burning from dragon fire was a source of delight for a lot of people). The markets were being repaired, and slowly but surely, other occupations were starting to appear. Blacksmiths and miners were amongst the most common, but now they also had tailors, carpenters, goldsmiths, jewellers, butchers, bakers, furriers, stablehands, and cartwrights. There were also a few farmers that had come from the wildlands, who had begun to cultivate the land around the mountain's base for the start of spring.

After she got out of bed, Alana went through her usual routine – change into her Ranger clothes, comb out her hair and then tie it back in a haphazard bun that sat at the nape of her neck, grab her bow and arrows and a few throwing knives, and then pick up her other hunting tools. Then she would veritably march over to Kili's room, knock on the door hard enough to wake him up (because, despite his promises to the contrary, he _never_ got out of bed before she arrived), and then spend fifteen minutes waiting for him to do whatever the hell it was he did in the morning, at which point he'd come out with his bow in hand and a goofy, sheepish grin on his face, and the two would leave the mountain.

Everyone knew they could afford to import food for years without fear of running out of gold, even without more being added each day from the mines, but Thorin and Alana had agreed that it would be better for everyone to be as self-sufficient as possible. Until more hunters established themselves in Dale and the local area, Kili and Alana were in charge of bringing in most of the fresh meat. They would take their time circling the mountain, sometimes having to stay out all day, and would bring back as much meat as they could carry. Most of the time, the duo came back with rabbits and pheasants, though they occasionally managed to spot a buck or a doe. They'd appear in Erebor tired yet satisfied – usually just after midday, thank Mahal – and would hand their meat over to a dwarf called Tirlum, who would in turn distribute it as necessary to the various butchers around the kingdom. Some days they didn't bring back anywhere near enough meat for all the eleven butchers to get some, but Tirlum was very good at keeping things fair. Not once had they yet been so low on food that they had needed to import some from elsewhere. 

"You're very quiet today," Kili noted, breaking Alana from her thoughts.

They were trekking through one of the forests due west of the mountain, arrows notched against their bowstrings. Alana sent Kili an amused look. "I'm always quiet," she teased. "You just talk enough for the both of us, so you don't notice."

After childishly sticking his tongue out at her, Kili refocused his attention ahead of them. Today's hunt had been successful so far, even after just an hour – they'd already picked up four pheasants, two partridges, and seven rabbits. It was still early in the morning, so they decided to stay out longer to see if they could find anything else.

"Where do you think **_amad_** is at the moment?" Kili asked suddenly, and Alana cocked an eyebrow his way, though his eyes were trained on the ground, so he didn't notice. 

The Ranger hummed thoughtfully. "Well," she mused, "it's been two months since we were informed the dwarves were leaving the Blue Mountains, so I'd say... they're probably not too far from Rivendell."

Kili blew out a frustrated breath. "It's taking so _long_ for them to get here!" he complained, scuffing the floor with his boot. "We don't have the numbers to do anything _fun_ yet." He huffed. "Not to mention Thorin's got Balin teaching Fili and me how to be 'proper Princes'."

"Fili and I," Alana corrected with a grin, laughing when Kili grumbled under his breath in khuzdul. "Don't think you're the only one with new duties, Kee," she said with more seriousness. "We've all got things to learn. Even Thorin's having to get used to his new workload. I myself am being taught about a thousand things at once."

That seemed to catch his interest. "Really? How come I didn't know that?"

"Probably because it's when you're busy learning to be a Prince," noted Alana with a smile. "While you're doing that, I've got to learn how to properly dress, eat, stand, speak... You name it. The only enjoyable bit about it is my khuzdul lessons with Ori."

Kili grinned. "How's that going?"

"Quickly, I think." She smiled at him. "It helps I actually want to learn how to speak and write in your language. The rest I could live without, but it's nice to know I'll be able to understand you more often."

" ** _Kud nurt gabil dumâ, (What a lovely day we're having,)_** " Kili said with a cheeky grin, probably trying to catch her out.

Alana glanced up at the canopy of bare tree limbs above their heads, the winter sun having grown noticeably warmer in the last week or so. Still, there was an ominous gathering of grey and black clouds sweeping in from the south west, so she replied, " ** _Arniki zatarzaki_** **_hibduzul. (I think it's going to rain later.)_** "

Kili chuckled. "Yes, you might be right."

Alana smirked at him, then the two fell into silence again, turning their attention back to the task at hand. Alana paused when she noticed hoof marks in the soil, and with a wordless glance at Kili, the two began following the trail. It wasn't long before they came across a clearing, in the centre of which stood a herd of deer. Three bucks and six does made up the herd, and with a bright grin Kili began to pull back his arrow. Alana gently placed her hand on his arm, lowering his bow.

Kili shot her a questioning look, but her eyes were fixed on the herd. Following her gaze, Kili tried to work out what had made her stop him. It took him a moment, but then he noticed that the does – all of them – were carrying. They'd agreed when they'd first begun these hunts together that they would never attack a pregnant animal, nor that animal's partner, nor any young children. That meant that this entire herd were safe from their arrows. 

The two sat and watched the herd for a while, before sharing a look and backing away quietly. 

"I'm going to miss this," Alana commented as they started heading back to the mountain. "Once trade starts again, and once our numbers have improved, there'll be no need for us to go out hunting."

Kili shrugged. "That doesn't mean we can't," he pointed out. "Maybe not every day, but enough to stop us from getting bored." He paused suddenly, then gave a rueful smile. "I'm being stupid again, aren't I?" he asked suddenly, catching Alana off guard. "It's all going to change from here; we won't have _time_ for stuff like this."

Chuckling, Alana wrapped an arm around his shoulders and gave him a quick side-hug. "Don't let this upset you too much, Kee. Thorin's already picked a few old traditions to continue once things settle down – one of which is a warrior's tournament. One I'm sure we'll all be eager to take part in."

Kili chuffed. "Well, we all know how that'll turn out – everyone else will be knocked out of the competition until it's just you and uncle left, and then... well, it's anyone's guess after that, I suppose."

"From what I heard, it's not as simple as just fighting one another. There are other challenges; the competitors are tested with more than one weapon type, some on and off of horses – or ponies, or war rams, I suppose – and others you have no armour or weapons, and all that are available to you are your hands and your wits. It sounds like a lot of fun to me, especially since Thorin said he'd probably open the contest to both dwarves and men." Alana grinned down at him, catching the slight gleam in the corner of his eyes. "And hey," she murmured, nudging him, "since we're amongst the first to know it's going to be started again, we can get a little practice in early, hey?"

Kili snorted. "Isn't that technically cheating?"

"Not at all! Since the contest hasn't even started yet, we'll simply be... broadening our horizons, so to speak. Training ourselves to better protect ourselves should the need arise."

Laughing, Kili shook his head. "I had no idea you were so dishonest, auntie!"

Alana smirked. "If that's the case, Kili, then you have a _lot_ to learn."

* * *

It wasn't all that long before they had to part ways, heading to complete their 'daily chores', as Kili had not-so-fondly called them. While Kili headed towards Balin's study, Alana headed for the royal family's private library, where Ori would be waiting for her.

She hadn't been lying when she said she enjoyed his lessons, as he was a competent and patient teacher, not to mention a dear friend of hers. The days where one of his brothers decided to drop in often made it better, though she would every time tease that the library was 'private' for a reason, at which point Dori would look half-tempted to turn around, and Nori would lightly scoff. She wouldn't put it past him to physically break in to the room if she decided to chuck them out, but everyone knew she never would. They may not have been part of the royal family's direct line, but they were close friends, and they had been given permission to use said library whenever they wanted. There were actually only very few areas in the mountain that remained off-limits to Thorin's original Company, and not even she knew about all of those yet.

Since she and Thorin hadn't been given the official nod of approval from his council – they were due to arrive with the rest of the dwarves from the Blue Mountains – they had decided to wait for their wedding. That said, Thorin had gone ahead and publicly declared that they were engaged, and that they _would_ be married. Getting the council's permission was mainly just following tradition – they didn't really have the power to stop Thorin marrying her if that was what he chose, but they both had agreed it would be better for everyone if they could convince the council to approve of it.

Ori was waiting for her when Alana finally arrived, leaving her bow and arrows at the door and tugging off a few of her knives as well. Despite everything they'd been through, Ori still tried to avoid weaponry as much as possible, and politely asked that others do the same in his presence, unless otherwise necessary. Alana was always happy to oblige, especially given all that he was giving to help her. 

" ** _Bakn galikh, (Good morning,)_** " Ori greeted her, doing his usual thing where he refused to speak the common tongue unless she truly couldn't work out what he was saying.

" ** _Bakn galikh_** _,_ " she repeated with a smile. " ** _Zûr zu? (How are you?)_** "

" ** _Abnâmul, yof, (Fine, thanks.)_** " Ori smiled at her in that usual slightly shy manner, pushing some paper towards her. Alana silently grabbed a quill, and he began his lesson.

The better she got at speaking and writing, the more he pushed for her to improve at a faster rate. She was definitely up for the challenge, but it sometimes left her feeling frustrated with herself when she struggled more than she felt she should have. Ori continually told her she was progressing faster than he'd thought she would, but Alana often found herself wishing she could do better.

As Ori said simple phrases to her, most of which she had absolutely no trouble mentally translating, she would write them down on the paper in front of her, her hand still getting used to the harshly-angled runes of the dwarves, though she had at least now learnt their peculiar alphabet by heart. Every now and then Ori would strike up a random, casual conversation, and Alana would do her best to keep it going as long as she could. She wasn't great at that yet, still knowing only about half of the rules of the language, but she was good enough that Ori would be able to understand most of what she was saying, and would gently correct whatever she slipped up on. 

After two hours their lesson came to an end, and the two friends offered cheerful goodbyes before parting ways. Ori headed back down towards the market, where he and his brothers lived. Despite being offered one of the old noble houses – they were certainly now rich enough to afford it – the Ri brothers instead chose one of the more modest ones where the vast majority of the dwarven population would eventually come to reside. Having grown used to their cosier surroundings, the large, open spaces found in the larger abodes made them all uncomfortable. Thorin had been surprisingly understanding, admitting that he too had found it difficult to adjust to a larger room upon returning, but offered up no objections and simply allowed them to choose any of the other houses that took their fancy. They had picked a mid-sized house that was almost exactly in the middle of the space between the royal halls and the market. 

Alana's destination was her private room, where a kind young dwarrowdam would be teaching her all her etiquette. Lucia was a noblewoman by birth, though she, like many nobles from Erebor, had spent most of her life living as if she weren't. Still, she had been taught by her parents at a young age how to act and behave like a woman of high birth, and now it was her turn to share this knowledge. Lucia's parents were busy creating their new lives, meaning Lucia was the only one of the family with enough time to spare for their future Queen. Alana liked to think she and Lucia had become friends, sharing laughter and smiles during their lessons, even if the lessons themselves were borderline torture. 

She knocked on the door even though technically this was one of her rooms and she didn't really _need_ to knock, but since she knew Lucia would be in there, apparently she was supposed to. She didn't really understand the logic behind that, but nonetheless did as she was told. She then pushed the door open without waiting for an answer, smiling at the brunette dwarrowdam, who rose to her feet and politely curtseyed (something Alana _still_ hadn't gotten used to, even after two months).

"Hello, Lucia," she greeted. "How was your morning?"

"Excellent, thank you," came Lucia's airy reply as she returned to her seat. Almost all of the dwarves Alana had met had strong, loud voices. Lucia didn't. It made a nice change every now and then, though she knew it wouldn't be a common thing for long. The source of Lucia's light voice was a mystery, and apparently had been something she'd been picked on for when she was little. Alana would constantly tell the dam that she liked the sound of her voice, and that she shouldn't think less of herself for it. Lucia would simply smile politely and nod, but they both knew that years of insecurity would not disappear so easily. "How was your hunt with Prince Kili?"

Alana chuckled, seating herself down close to her friend. "Very successful, I'm pleased to say. And it seems that there is to be a healthy new supply of fauns soon. We came across a herd of deer with six pregnant does. Hopefully with the new wildlife, the hunts will be easier in future."

In response, Lucia pulled that cute little face she did when she was trying to smile, but the topic made her slightly uncomfortable. Alana was internally grateful for that – Lucia was unfamiliar with the sight of blood, and even the thought of it apparently made her a little queasy. It was nice to know there were at least some people in the world who had held on to their innocence, though she dreaded the day the kind dwarrowdam lost hers. 

Lucia cleared her throat and smiled, straightening her back and placing her hands demurely in her lap. "Now then, my Lady, shall we get started?"

* * *

Alana groaned as she collapsed onto her bed, her back stiff from maintaining its rigid posture for so long. Normally she'd be able to go back to being a normal human being after her lessons with Lucia, but Thorin had told her that the two of them had to attend a fancy dinner over in Dale. That meant that not only had she been forced into a corseted death trap (though she'd been able to sneakily loosen some of the ties on the dress to allow her to breathe better), but she'd also had to put Lucia's training into practice by maintaining a polite, straight-backed seating position for the _three hour_ dinner. By the time she and Thorin had said their polite goodbyes her back felt as stiff as a board.

Thorin too had apparently been rather uncomfortable, though he bore his pain much better than she did. On the journey back from Dale he had teased her mercilessly, at which pointed she'd started grumbling at him under her breath. Unfortunately, this only proved to further amuse him. 

The sun had been absent in the sky for a long time now, and Alana's body was begging for sleep. After quickly rinsing her face with cold water, Alana slipped on her white nightgown and slid under the covers, praying that both she and the others sleeping nearby would all be blessed with dreamless slumbers.

Thankfully, her prayers were answered.


	2. Family Reunions

A further two months passed, bringing with it the departure of Dain and the dwarves returning with him to the Iron Hills. Erebor's population had continued to grow in size, and trade between the kingdoms of elves, men and dwarves was beginning to flourish. 

Things were starting to pick up pace, it was true, but a heaviness still hovered over the inhabitants of the mountain, as the memory of everything they had lost during what had become known as the Battle of the Five Armies remained a constant shadow. There was something of a lull in Alana's life now, as Lucia had deemed her ready to take on her role, having taught her everything she could. Alana's fluency in khuzdul was also improving every day. The most important thing for her, though, was the knowledge that becoming Queen didn't seem quite so daunting anymore. It still terrified her, but she had begun to realise that maybe she would be able to do it, after all. 

On the morning of April 4th, Thorin and Alana could be found in the old council hall, a comfortable silence hanging over them. The two were standing so close together that they would occasionally brush limbs.

Then the peaceful quiet was broken. 

"Thorin! Alana!" On any other day, the heirs of Durin would probably be scolded to the Halls of Waiting and back for tearing through the corridors like madmen, but their bright faces gave them a few extra seconds to explain themselves. It was all they needed. "The first caravans from the Blue Mountains are here!"

Thorin and Alana paused in their perusal of a suggested trade agreement with Rohan, raising their eyes and watching Fili and Kili come to a sudden halt, barely even panting despite having clearly run all the way from the front gate.

Thorin straightened. "How many dwarves have come?"

"A hundred, at least!" came Kili's excited reply. "We thought we saw **_amad_** and Cinna, and Raylin and Gimli too."

Thorin nodded. "I want you both to fetch Bombur and Gloin, and anyone else who wants to join in with greeting them. We'll meet you down by the main gate."

The two nodded, and then disappeared off in a flash. Alana turned to Thorin with a bright smile. "Dís is here?"

"Aye, it would seem so."

"And the others? Raylin, Gimli and... Cinna, was it?"

Thorin nodded. "Raylin and Gimli are Gloin's wife and son, respectively. Cinna is Bombur's wife. No doubt she'll have brought all their children along too."

Alana chuckled. "All nine of them."

Huffing, Thorin nodded again, offering his arm as the two left the council hall, which she immediately accepted. "Indeed. You have a difficult task ahead of you, learning all their names."

Alana scoffed. "Oh, that's easy: Balur, Binur, Bomfur, Bambur, Bunbur, Biftur, Renna, Finna and Mayra." She winked at him when he shot her a shocked look. "I memorised them ages ago," she told him blithely. "I knew – well, hoped, really – that one day I'd meet them."

"So, you knew the names of Bombur's children, but not Gloin's son, nor either of their wives?"

Alana shrugged. "Somehow Bombur's wife never came up. Not by name, anyway. And Gloin... well, Kili warned me at Beorn's never to ask him about his family. Apparently he has a habit of talking your ear off about them."

Chuckling, Thorin nodded. "Aye, they're his pride and joy, it can't be denied."

"And I don't blame him," she said quickly, realising how her previous statement could have been perceived. "But I don't know him as well as perhaps I'd like, despite being an honourable part of his family." She paused. "Oh, Mahal, how are they going to react when they see my braids?"

Thorin chuckled, patting the hand on his arm comfortingly. "Relax, **_atamanel_** , it'll be fine. They might be surprised at first, but they'll know it was for nothing less than because you deserve it. With a little time, they'll no doubt come to love you as well, and be glad it happened."

"I hope you're right." Letting out a long sigh, Alana shook her head and let the matter drop. Then she almost instantly brightened, her very aura become charged and excitable. "I can't believe I'm finally about to meet your sister!"

"A moment in history if ever there was one," Thorin grumbled, and she honestly couldn't tell if he was being serious or not.

The two continued on in silence, offering polite nods of greeting to those they crossed paths with on the way. Alana still couldn't get used to being bowed to or treated with respect, but it was far better than the reactions she used to get – the ones where people jumped out of her path or spat foul names her way when they thought she was beyond the range of hearing. She still got the occasional twisted or sour or disdainful glance, but there was less of a negative reaction to her presence at Thorin's side than she'd expected. At least among the people. The elderly members of the council – when they arrived – would likely prove themselves to be far harder to convince, apparently being more inclined towards tradition.

Upon reaching the main gates, Alana thought that Kili's estimation of there being a hundred dwarves was a gross understatement. "That must be at least half the dwarves in the whole of Middle Earth!" she gasped.

Thorin chuckled. "We're dwindling in number, aye, but we are not yet so few that we face extinction. I reckon that's about twice Kili's initial guess – and significantly less than a quarter of all the dwarves in the Blue Mountains, I'd wager."

Alana smiled. "I can't believe there are so many coming here!"

With a twitch of his lips, Thorin glanced up at her. She seemed in awe of his – soon to be _their_ – people, and it warmed his heart to know she had grown to love the dwarves so much. There weren't many outside their own race who trusted them, let alone befriended or came to love them. It was just another thing that separated Alana from the rest of mankind, he supposed, and he couldn't have been more grateful for it.

"Come," he said at length. "We should be down there to greet them."

Alana beamed down at him, and quickly pulled ahead of him with her long and determined strides. He let her go, knowing he would be moving that quickly too, were his legs a little longer.

" ** _Amad_** _!_ " Before either of them could reach the door, their nephews eagerly rushed past them, barrelling into the brown haired dwarrowdam at the front of the approaching crowd. With amused expressions, Alana and Thorin stopped a little further back, allowing the boys to reunite with their mother.

When she saw Dís for the first time, Alana couldn't say she was surprised. An image had already been formed in her head of what the dam would look like, and it turned out to be very close to reality. Her hair was as thick and smooth as the rest of her family's, with various braids interwoven with the dark locks. Her eyes were a shade of brown identical to Kili's, and her face was adorned with neatly trimmed sideburns and just the hint of a beard on her chin. Despite how peculiar Alana found it to see a woman with facial hair, it suited Dís completely, and suddenly she couldn't imagine the dwarrowdam without it. Dís was shorter than both her sons, but was as broad and strong as they were, and was clearly absolutely crushing them with the force of her hug.

"Oh, my boys!" she cried, tugging them even closer.

To the side, Alana caught sight of Bombur rushing to meet a handsome blonde and their nine young children, who all but swarmed around their parents as they reunited. Just beyond them, Gloin was locked in a tight embrace with a plump redhead, and a young dwarf who was undoubtedly his son was stood to the side, smiling in contentment.

Alana turned her attention back to Dís just as the she pulled back from her sons. "So much for your promise to write to me!" she huffed. "You might as well have disappeared off the face of Arda! No letters, not even a measly note saying 'We're fine'! It's as if you exist just to worry me to death!" Then she pulled them into a fierce hug again.

"Sorry, **_amad_** ," Kili murmured with a fond smile. "But we've barely had the time."

Dís scoffed, and a chuckle escaped Alana's lips. Thorin sent her a puzzled look, but she just winked at him, only serving to confuse him even more. "'Barely' is more than enough," Dís chided, then smiled and pressed two sloppy kisses to the tops of their heads, before turning to Thorin and Alana. "And you!" she scolded, eyes narrowed on Thorin. He was clearly trying to hide a smirk as he stepped forward to meet her. "You're no better! Stealing my sons away on this Mahal-forsaken quest!"

"You hardly seemed to protest when we left," he countered with a genuine smile that Dís obviously wanted to mirror, but was fighting off expertly. "In fact, with half the chance, I'm sure you would have come with us."

"Only to keep an eye on you!" she retorted. "Deny it all you want, brother, but I have saved your sorry hide more than once over the years."

"Aye, that you have." And then he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her, and she willingly reciprocated. No more words were needed, and the two simply stood together in silence for a moment, silently reassuring each other that everything was okay.

Fili and Kili were positively beaming at the reunited siblings, and Alana was equally happy, though was also barely stopping herself from bouncing on her feet in excitement. She'd been waiting for this moment ever since their stay with Beorn, and she would be lying if she said she wasn't a little impatient. At long last, the hug broke, and Dís turned her eyes towards Alana.

"And I suppose you must be Alana," she mused with a smile, much to the obvious shock of the other three.

Alana nodded and smirked. "You have no idea how glad I am to finally meet you in person, Dís," she said, her smirk shifting into a grin. "I hope you made it here without trouble."

"Nothing we couldn't handle, I assure you," came the blithe reply. Then she drew herself to her full (though not especially impressive) height and stated with purpose, "You have a promise to uphold, my Lady."

"Likewise, my Lady."

The two grinned at one another, and then embraced like old friends. They pulled back after several seconds, and Dís clasped Alana's hands between her own. "Thank you for keeping them safe. I will never be able to repay you for that."

"Believe me, your friendship is payment enough," Alana responded with a smile. "Now, I think we have some explaining to do."

"Not just yet," Dís murmured, her grin quickly becoming mischievous. Alana narrowed her eyes, knowing that face all too well, because both her sons mirrored it to perfection on a regular basis. "I made a quick detour on the way here," Dís explained, glancing behind her. "And picked one or two people up as I did."

Curious, Alana peered around the dwarrowdam. At first she didn't see anything of particular import, but then a familiar head popped out from behind a wagon, and her face lit up.

"Estel!"

"Alana!" The young boy ran up to her with a bright beam, and Alana wasted no time in scooping him up into her arms and spinning him around. "I've missed you," he murmured into her hair.

"I've missed you, too," she responded softly. She then put him down, and almost immediately frowned. She placed her hand on the top of his head and then moved it to the place in line with that height on her body. "You've grown," she noted, bemused. "You've grown a lot."

"Six inches," he stated proudly, and grinned up at her. "I'm going to be as tall as you one day!"

Alana laughed. "You'll be as tall as _adar_ if you're not careful. He was a good few inches taller than I am." Then Alana glanced up to see her mother making her way towards them. While Aragorn turned to Fili and Kili, all but leaping on them, Alana approached her mother and pulled her into a warm hug. "Hello, _naneth_."

Gilraen smiled softly at her daughter when they pulled back from one another, the blonde woman brushing aside a few of Alana's stray locks of hair. "You have aged," Gilraen noted with a touch of sorrow. "Your eyes are not so young anymore."

"I've experienced a lot," Alana admitted. "Some of it wasn't so pleasant."

"But you're okay? You're unharmed?"

"I'm alright, I promise." Alana smiled at her mother, drawing her into another embrace, before turning to Dís with the same gentle expression on her face. "Thank you, _mellon nín_."

Dís nodded. "I could hardly resist after you told me so much about them, your brother especially," she explained. "And anyway, this is going to be your home now – they'll have had to visit at some point."

Alana chuckled. "You're not wrong."

"Would you mind explaining exactly _how_ you two know each other?" Thorin grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose, as if the whole affair was giving him a headache. Which, she supposed, was not beyond the realm of possibility.

Smirking, Alana asked, "Do you remember all those letters I kept writing?"

"Are you talking about the ones that you kept hiding from us, and refusing to say who they were from?" Fili asked, resting a hand on the Aragorn's shoulder, and Kili was doing the same on his other side. It made for an odd sight, especially seeing as – once Thorin and Alana got married – Fili and Kili would technically be Aragorn's nephews through marriage. She liked to think they'd develop more of a sibling relationship though, and that it wouldn't matter to any of them.

Nodding, Alana gestured to Dís. "Well, here's the answer to your curiosity."

"All that time, you were writing to my _sister?_ " Thorin asked in astonishment.

Dís snorted in a very un-ladylike manner. "There's no need to sound so insulted, **_nadad_**. At first, she was simply keeping me updated on your progress, guessing quite correctly that you'd not put ink to paper since the moment you left the Blue Mountains. So," here, she looked over at her suddenly sheepish sons, "I know you most certainly could have made the time to write if you'd wanted to."

"It wasn't long before our conversations changed to be more personal," Alana added in with a smile. "I would keep her informed of what we were doing, of course, but we'd also talk about other things. Our families, our hobbies and interests – things like that. She became my friend before I'd ever even met her."

Dís smiled softly at the woman. "Likewise," she muttered, the two sharing a grin with one another. "Now," she said with that no-nonsense air once more, "let's get everyone inside and settled. There should be another caravan on the way a few days behind us, so we've certainly got our work cut out for us."

Thorin chuckled. "Do you think me completely incompetent, Dís?" he asked. "We began organising rooms and houses the moment we knew you would be coming."

"Well, perhaps not that early," the Ranger tagged on, shrugging. "We had to deal with the carnage after the battle first, not to mention the mess that dear old Smaug left for us."

Dís huffed. "Clearly you've been busy," she noted with equal parts approval and scolding. "In all that time, how much time have you had to rest?"

"Unfortunately, until we can be sure the mountain is safe and secure, we have little time to take rest beyond sleeping at night," Thorin answered, offering his arm and escorting Dís into the mountain, Alana walking just behind with Aragorn, who grabbed her hand without hesitation and then beamed up at her when she cast him a bemused look; and Fili and Kili took up the rear, offering Gilraen escorting arms after waving over at Gimli, who waved back.

Gimli's expression was hard to read, but Alana knew then that she had caught his attention. What possessed her to do such a thing, she wasn't sure, but when their eyes met she lifted two fingers and lazily saluted, before turning to face forward once more and consequently missing the bewildered expression that flashed across his face.

There were already dwarves bustling about, gathering belongings and leading the new arrivals into their designated homes. The houses closest to the market had all been repaired, cleaned, and restored in such a way that no single house was better than another. Their layouts may have been different, but each was perfect for starting a new life. A few of the more well-to-do dwarves were directed towards the houses of the nobles, a few levels up from the market. These were obviously grander and usually older too, but Thorin made sure they were not any more lavishly decorated than those by the market. If the noble families wished to make their homes look fancier, that was their choice, but it would not be the burden of others to do the work for them.

"It feels different to how I remember it," Dís noted with a pensive frown. "Do you get that feeling, Thorin?"

"A little," he admitted. "But we are not as young, nor as innocent as we were back then. And we have duties we did not used to have. I feel safe in these walls, as I always used to, but I know there is always a chance of an attack, and I find I cannot completely relax just yet."

Dís hummed thoughtfully. "I don't think that is it," she said after a moment, "but I do know what you mean."

"Perhaps it's simply because you are working from memory," Alana suggested. Dís glanced curiously back at her. "Nothing is ever quite as we remember it. Our minds always change things – small things, usually – but they are enough to make the experience a little different to what we expect."

"Bambur!"

Alana let out a surprised sound when a little body suddenly collided with her legs, and she glanced down to see a small dwarfling smiling toothily at her. He was cute, with a hairless, round face and bright orange hair that was without braids. His eyes were bright green, staring at her with intense curiosity.

"Are you a man?" he asked her.

"Bambur!" Bombur's wife, Cinna, was obviously both embarrassed by and angry at her child, but Alana just waved a hand to say it was fine.

She knelt down in front of the dwarf and quietly explained, "I am from the race of men, yes, but I am a woman. You must be careful, little one, for not every woman would be as understanding towards you should you make this mistake again." Then with a smile she gently poked his nose, causing his face to scrunch up adorably.

He sniffed a few times, obviously still feeling a phantom of her little prod, and then grinned. "Okay, I understand, I think." He then stepped back and bowed. "Bambur, at your service."

Alana grinned and bowed back once she'd straightened. "Alana, at yours and your family's." She winked down at him when he beamed at her, before Cinna rushed forward and ushered him away.

Alana heard the blonde quietly scolding him as they left. "Honestly, Bambur, your curiosity will get you into a heap of trouble one day! How many times must I tell you?! You can't just _run into_ people. And the future Queen, no less!"

"Lady Cinna," Alana called, and the fretful blonde paused, turning to face Alana with an apprehensive face. "I truly didn't mind. Please, don't be too hard on him."

Cinna released a long breath, then nodded. "As you wish, my Lady." Then she tilted her head to the side in polite farewell, and then whisked Bambur away again (though not before he could spin around and wave jovially at the Ranger, who returned it with an amused smile).

Alana turned back to find everyone staring at her with various expressions on their faces. Her mother, Fili and Aragorn were all smiling, Kili looked like he was trying to hold back laughter, Thorin's expression was unexpectedly tender, and Dís looked like she'd just come up with some wicked scheme that Alana had a feeling she'd be the unfortunate victim of.

Alana narrowed her eyes at the dwarrowdam. "What?" she asked warily.

"Oh, nothing," came the airy reply, though Dís' eyes remained alight with mischief. "Just got a little lost in thought."

"Uh huh..."

Alana was understandably doubtful, knowing the Durins well enough now to know when one of them was up to something, but she also knew that trying to push the subject would only prove to be a waste of energy, so she let the subject drop. Still, she would have to keep a wary eye on the dwarrowdam, just to make sure she wasn't caught off-guard by something, because if Dís was anything like her sons (and Alana would bet an awful lot of money that she was), then she was quite possibly in for a whole heap of mischief.


	3. The Collapse

Dís settled remarkably well into the mountain, accepting her new duties as the Princess of Erebor with admirable grace and without an ounce of complaint. Aragorn and Gilraen also seemed comfortable there, though they occasionally showed signs of homesickness, and Alana knew that, as much as they were starting to appreciate Erebor, Rivendell would always be their home. She couldn't begrudge them that if she tried.

Overall, the arrivals from the Blue Mountains certainly proved to liven things up within Erebor's thick walls, and Alana couldn't say for sure whether it was for the better.

Though it had gotten better in recent weeks, their food supplies were still a little unreliable; sometimes they would have excesses of food, and other times shortages. Every now and then Kili and Alana still had to wander beyond Erebor's borders for a morning hunt, and with a greater number of people within Erebor, they were hard-pressed to catch enough meat to feed everyone. More often than not, they would have to wander out during the afternoon as well as the morning, just to keep up with the demand. Neither could find it in them to complain much, as they got to spend their time in the wild and away from the sometimes stifling duties they had been given as monarchs-to-be. Still, after a while they began to miss the times when they would be able to spend lunch with their family and friends, and while they were happy to spend time with one another, they both agreed a new arrangement would have to be made before too long. 

Thorin's council were in the second group to arrive from the Blue Mountains, and as soon as they appeared, plans began for Thorin's official coronation as King, and Fili and Kili's coronations as his heirs. After those took place, Thorin and Alana would work together to convince the council to allow them to marry.

Everything was happening at once, and Alana found herself suddenly quite overwhelmed. She had met the council members only once, and even then, to call it a meeting was perhaps a little generous. Many were grey or white haired, and most looked like they hadn't smiled in years – at least not genuinely. Balin was of course a member of the group of twelve (including Thorin), and she knew that having his support would be invaluable. She would be lying, though, if she said she wasn't intimidated by the rest of them, with their grim faces and hard eyes. 

A week after the arrival of the last of the dwarves coming from the Blue Mountains, Alana was neck-deep in plans for Thorin's coronation. As a nod to her, and a show of his faith in her abilities, Thorin had suggested that Alana take over most of the planning for the event. She was more than up for the challenge, and was happy to bring Dís into the process. Dís' main role was simply to ensure that a few of the more specific traditions were included. Everything else was entirely up to Alana.

The coronation was to take place in the celebration hall, which Alana had found by mere chance upon first arriving at the mountain. Usually such an event would happen in the main throne hall, however with so many people expected to attend, there wasn't space enough for it to be done in there. Alana had amassed a team of thirty-two to help her get everything ready – from banners to candles, food to crowns, everything was for her to decide. Thorin already had his crown, as it was the one that had been Thror's once, so very long ago; but Kili and Fili were having theirs freshly made, and apparently that meant she had to design those, too.

"Alana!"

Alana tried to hold back her little groan, as she had just been about to call it a night. She turned with a polite smile which quickly became warm and genuine as she beheld one of her friends heading towards her. "Hello, Bofur," she greeted in return. "What can I do for you, my friend?"

"There's been a collapse in the mines!" he reported urgently.

Alana's eyes widened. " _What?_ "

The two raced out of the room, darting past anyone they came across, all of whom wore the same confused expression. At first everything was fine, but the closer they got to the mines, the greater trouble they had battling their way through the crowd. Many dwarves were milling about, none of them sure what to do. When they finally saw Alana coming, they began to clear a path for her, which meant she and Bofur could pick up the pace again.

It wasn't long before they came across a large group of dwarves in the entrance of the mines. Thorin and Dwalin were there with them, both sending Bofur grateful looks as they got closer.

"What happened?" Alana asked without preamble.

"We think one of the old mine shafts was structurally weakened during Smaug's assault," Dwalin informed her.

Alana frowned. "But I thought all of the mines were checked."

"Clearly something was missed," Thorin muttered.

Alana shook her head, frown deepening. She turned her attention to the man in charge of the mines, an elderly dwarf called Tharik. "Was there anyone down there?"

He furrowed his thick brows. "I don't know."

"What do you mean, _you don't know?!_ You're in charge of the mines, and the people who work in them! They're under your care. How can you _not know?_ "

"Alana–" Thorin began, but she cut him off with a look.

Alana spun around and addressed the crowd clearly. "Does anyone here know who was in the bit that collapsed, if anyone?"

"Hothir and Boric were down there," one dwarf called, his face covered in soot.

"Aye, Rubin, too!"

Swearing harshly under her breath, Alana turned to Bofur, bending down and murmuring in his ear, "Get Oin. Tell him to bring my medical pack." With a puzzled expression, Bofur nodded and scampered away. She turned back to the others. "Do we know what's of interest down there?"

"From what we can tell," Thorin muttered, "it's at the entryway to the part of the mine that links to an old gold vein."

"How close can we get to it?"

Dwalin and Tharik recoiled at the mere thought of getting closer, but Thorin seemed unbothered. She supposed he knew her best of anyone at this point, and perhaps even expected that response. "Without a significant safety risk? No further than where we're standing. Otherwise, the closest we can get is the point of the collapse. The path is blocked as far as we can tell."

Alana nodded. "I want to see it."

"Wha–?" Tharik spluttered. "Lady Alana, I–"

"If there is even the slightest chance that there are dwarves on the other side of that collapse then we have to work as fast as we can to get to them," she cut in, eyes flashing. "The only way to do that is to go down there." She tilted her head to the side. "I am perfectly happy to find it myself, but it will be a lot faster if someone leads the way."

Thorin smirked almost to himself, before tilting his head to the side. "I think I remember where it is," he stated calmly, before turning and leading the way. Dwalin followed immediately, but Tharik remained behind, his mouth agape.

"You'd think someone who's been placed in charge of this place would be less afraid of wandering in," Alana grumbled, glancing covertly over her shoulder at the older dwarf, who had at that point turned his back.

Thorin chuckled. "He's experienced," he told her, "but perhaps he's not suicidal. Is that such a bad thing? Not all of us have a death wish."

Alana snorted. "Still convinced I want to die, huh?"

"It's not an unfair assumption to make. You're almost as reckless as Kili."

Alana let out an exaggerated gasp. "You take that back, Thorin Oakenshield!"

Both dwarves laughed at her playful behaviour, before their mood fell. The point of the cave-in was closer to the surface than Alana had thought, and as they rounded a corner they came across it. Alana eyed the wall of crumbled stone contemplatively. "There's a small enough gap at the top," she mused. "That's a good place to start if we want to move these rocks."

"We can't know for sure we won't cause another collapse," Thorin pointed out with a frown. "It may be more dangerous to try to move it."

"So you think we should let those dwarves stay trapped behind the wall?"

"I didn't say that." Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "The only way to be sure of how sound it is would be to check the foundation rock on the other side. Unfortunately, we can't get over there."

Alana eyed the gap and murmured, "I might be able to."

Thorin's eyes widened, and he whirled on her. "No! Absolutely not. Alana, you cannot go over!"

"And why not?" she challenged, frowning. "If we need to look on the other side, and we have someone capable of getting over there, why the hell shouldn't we try?"

Thorin scowled. "Because another collapse might happen. This rock was clearly already fragile enough. You could be trapped over there."

Alana sighed patiently. "Do you not think it worth the risk?"

"I will not lose you," Thorin growled, his face darkening at the thought.

"And I will not abandon the people who are down there!" Alana shot back, nostrils flaring. "Those dwarves will have wives and children. I cannot simply turn around without trying, Thorin! If I go over, I can check the quality of the stone, and I can try to find the other dwarves. I can bring them back. If you get to work shifting these rocks, we might be able to make a big enough gap that everyone can get back safely. We don't have to dig out the whole path completely before then."

Thorin exhaled loudly, then glanced at Dwalin. The bald dwarf was stood with his arms folded and a resigned expression on his face. He shrugged. "I don't like it," he admitted, "but right now it's the only plan we've got."

With another sigh, Thorin met Alana's steady gaze, and nodded reluctantly. "Fine," he allowed. "But at the first sign of something going wrong, I want you to get back to us. No unnecessary heroics, okay?"

Biting back her quip in the face of his serious expression, Alana nodded. "It'll be okay, Thorin," she tried to reassure him, but by the twisted expression on his face, it hadn't helped in the slightest. She sent Dwalin as subtle a look as she could manage, a pleading edge to her gaze. With an understanding grunt, Dwalin tilted his head to the side and left, giving the two of them time to talk alone. Alana knelt in front of Thorin and gently took his face in her hands, forcing him to meet her gaze. There was a distinct sadness in his eyes, a concern that seemed to be clawing him apart from the inside. "We must all take risks sometimes, Thorin," she murmured, and he sighed, letting his eyes flicker to the ground. "Would you not do the same, if you could?"

He hesitated, then nodded. "I would," he agreed. "But I cannot stop myself worrying for your safety."

Alana smiled softly, her eyes shining with love and understanding. "I know. I would be the same in your shoes. But I must do this, because right now, I'm the only one who can. The only other option would be finding a child – your race are simply too stocky."

Thorin let a tiny smile grace his lips at that, recognising both the tease in her words, and the hint of pride in his kind. Alana truly loved his people, and it was that love which drove her to do this – he knew it, and yet he still feared for her life. He was selfish enough to want her to stay, to keep her by his side despite the need for her to go. But he knew she was right – they couldn't leave those dwarves down there. Not while they had the power to save them.

He placed his hands on her shoulders, his thumbs brushing the underside of her jaw, before he ducked his head and pressed his lips against hers.

She responded immediately, her hands moving to tangle in his hair, as they often did. Her lips were soft and there was no rush to the kiss, simply raw emotion and love, and he would not have it any other way. She simultaneously filled him with courage and heightened his fear, reminding him of her strength, and how much he would lose if she failed. But he had faith in her and knew she would do all in her power to come back to him. So, he would let her go.

Alana was the first to pull away, though she remained close enough that her breath still caressed his face when she exhaled. Her blue eyes met his, bright and shining, and she smiled. "I love you, Thorin."

"I love you too," he whispered, kissing her quickly again. "Come back to me," he added, not caring that there was still an undertone of fear to his voice.

She blinked, before her face softened even more, and she nodded. "I will. You have my word." Then she stood up straight, and after pressing another kiss on his lips, followed by a second on his forehead, she turned back to the entrance to the mine. She sucked in a determined breath, then began climbing up. There wasn't far to go, the corridor being about ten feet tall, but she had to be careful not to disturb the fallen rock. At the top she paused and waited, making Thorin frown in confusion. "I asked Bofur to get my medical bag," she explained. "If anyone's hurt on the other side, I'll need it."

He nodded, and the two waited patiently, though not for long. Barely a minute later Bofur rushed in, Oin and Dwalin by his side. The three dwarves froze when they saw her, before Oin approached the wall and carefully threw her bag up to her. She grinned and chucked it through the gap, before eyeing it appraisingly. Up close, she began to doubt whether she'd truly fit through, it being barely a foot tall, but she grit her teeth and went ahead anyway. First one foot, then the other, and then – using the ceiling to help – she pushed the rest of her body through the gap. She dropped down on the other side, glad to see there were lit torches on this side of the wall.

"Alana?" Thorin called.

"I'm okay," she assured him, picking up her medical pack. She glanced up at the ceiling, noting there was a long, wide crack in the rock that stretched at least six feet away from the existing rockfall. "The roof rock here is a little damaged," she admitted, "but I think it should hold." She glanced at the walls, noting they seemed perfectly strong still. One of the wooden beams they'd put in to help keep the roof up had begun sagging on the left side, but she didn't think that would be a problem for a while. "All the walls seem secure. Get to work on clearing some of those rocks. I'll head in and find the others."

"Be careful," was Thorin's low response.

Alana couldn't help but grin. "Always am." From the other side of the wall, she heard a doubtful snort, and chuckled to herself. Then she turned around and picked up one of the torches on the wall, keeping a firm grip on the wood and then making her way through the tunnels.

As she delved deeper, her lungs began to burn dully. The heavy air was thick with dust and tiny specks of crumbled stone, and they caught in her throat, making it scratchy and sore. Regardless of this, Alana continued onwards, following the pathway created by lit torches and ignoring the dark tunnels that branched off. She walked for what seemed like hours, her torch her only constant companion, before she came across another collapse. She paused, eyeing the rock closely. There was no gap for her to crawl through this time, and most of the stones were far too heavy for her to move on her own.

A frown flickered onto her face as she wandered what to do, but then her ears caught something. Closing her eyes, she let herself focus on the sound. After a few seconds, she honed in on it. A voice, she was sure. Deep and gruff, and scared. Her eyes snapped open, and she pressed herself close to the wall of rock.

"Hello?" she called. The voice on the other side paused, but she received no reply. "Hello?" She tried again, raising her voice a little more this time.

The sound was muffled by the rock, but she managed to figure it out anyway. "Is someone there?"

She laughed in relief. "Yes! Yes, I'm here. Are you okay? Is anyone hurt?"

"We're okay," came the reply. "Boric has a cut on his forehead, but it's nothing serious."

"How many of you are down there?" she asked.

"Five," he answered. "We can't get out of here – this is the only pathway here, and we can't risk another fall."

Alana bit her lip in thought, eyeing the wall. She noticed a smaller rock on the edge, hesitated, and then carefully pried it free. None of the other rocks shifted, but she noticed there was a gap in the rock now. "On your left wall," she called, "about two feet from the edge, three feet up from the ground, there's a rock. Can you move it?"

"Why?"

"If you can move it, we might be able to make a gap in the wall to talk through."

"Okay, we'll see what we can do." There were some mutterings from the other side that she couldn't decipher, and then the sound of shifting stone. She peered through the gap she'd made and was delighted to note there was light coming through. A few more grunts and heaves later, and the rock blocking her sight rolled away. A moment later, a grubby, tired-looking face popped into view. The pair of bright green eyes staring back at her widened in shock. "L-Lady Alana?"

"Just Alana is okay," she stated with a smile. Then she became serious. "What's your name?"

"Cardac, son of Cardin," he replied with a crooked grin. "At your service."

Alana chuckled, then became serious. "What supplies have you got in there?"

He shook his head. "Not a lot," he admitted. "We were only supposed to be in here for a few hours."

Alana nodded and quickly began searching through her medical pack, before pulling out two full waterskins of water. She hesitated, pondering over whether to keep one for herself, but, she reminded herself, she still had access to the surface if she needed to go back for anything. She turned to the hole in the wall and caught Cardac's attention again. "Here," she said, passing the two waterskins through the whole. "I don't know how long this'll last you, so ration it carefully."

He nodded gratefully as he grabbed the skins. "Thank you." He paused, then looked up again. "La– Alana," he cut himself off, grinning sheepishly as she shot him a pointed look. "We'll be okay for now, but... Hothir's little lad is missing."

Alana froze, her eyes widening. "What? What's a child doing down here?"

Cardac winced. "The lad asked to see what his **_adad_** did, so Hothir brought him with him, but during the collapse the lad disappeared. He's not here, but that's all we know for sure."

Alana pursed her lips, then stated with conviction, "I'll find him. See if you can find a way to make this hole bigger, but be careful. Don't do anything if you think the ceiling might cave again. If you manage to get yourselves out of there, don't wait for me. I'll make it back in my own time, okay? And I will make sure to bring Hothir's son back with me."

Cardac nodded, and the two turned away from the wall.

With a light curse, Alana began making her way back along the path she'd walked to get down here. Pausing at the first dark corridor leading away from the main route, Alana considered her options. She'd passed as least six of these on the way down, but what were the chances of the boy heading down one of those? He wouldn't want to wander too far from his father, she thought, so she took a risk and headed along the darkened hallway, lighting the old torches on the wall as she did.

The air down here was cleaner somehow; fresher, less stale. Her lungs were grateful for the reprieve, but Alana wondered why it changed. She continued to walk, the path thankfully not splitting up, before she paused. Ahead, it looked like the path just... ended. Not that there was a dead end, but rather that the tunnel came to an end, opening up into something much larger. A faint light was coming from whatever lay at the end of the tunnel, and with a confused frown on her face, Alana headed towards it.

She came to a shuddering halt when she beheld the sight in front of her. In a way, it reminded her of the weaving bridges and platforms she'd seen in Goblin Town, except these were carved from stone and were far less random in their placement. She had wandered into a sheer, underground ravine, the walls gleaming under the light of her torch, and the silver moonbeams filtering through gaps in the stone above. All around her she saw glittering gemstones of all kinds – rubies, sapphires, emeralds, diamonds – and for a moment her breath was stolen from her body.

She wasn't usually particularly impressed by gems and jewels; though they were pretty, she often believed people put too much value on them. But here, now, in the presence of so many and so much, she became painfully aware of their splendour, and suddenly she saw them in a new light. The rawness of the gems, and beautiful arcs of coloured light they threw off... They were truly stunning.

Alana shook off her awe, glancing around for any sign of life. There was nothing out of place – no stray torches, no moving shadows. With a sigh she continued onward, crossing the narrow stone bridge she'd come across, hoping against hope that she would find this child before either of them got into danger. But even as she walked, worry began to grow in the pit of her stomach.


	4. The Origin of Bravery

Progress at the source of the collapse was slower than Thorin would have liked. It had been almost two hours since Alana had disappeared over the top of it, and they'd neither seen nor heard any sign of anyone on the other side ever since. She hadn't returned, nor had anyone else, and – while he was trying to hold on to the overwhelming confidence he felt in her abilities to look after not just herself, but others as well – Thorin could feel the edge of panic creeping over him. 

They had been incredibly careful moving away the rocks at the source of the collapse, taking Alana's cautionary words to heart. The size of many of the rocks was what made their progress so slow – the sheer weight of each boulder would require multiple dwarves to dislodge, and doing so meant potentially shaking the foundation rock enough to weaken it further. In order to avoid this, Thorin had ordered that the boulders be broken into smaller pieces so they could be moved more safely. Unfortunately, this meant each boulder took around twenty minutes to completely move, and his nerves were beginning to fray at the edges.

He glanced to the right when Dwalin put a heavy hand on his shoulder. "She'll be okay, Thorin," his friend assured him for the fifth time, but Thorin could not bring himself to completely believe it. "We both know what she's been through. This, by comparison, is nothing."

Thorin sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I know," he admitted. "But I cannot stop myself from worrying. She is in an unfamiliar place. The mine is enormous – she could very easily get lost down there."

Dwalin scoffed. "Somehow I find that unlikely – that woman's sense of direction is truly something to behold."

"Dwalin–"

"My Lord!"

Both dwarves looked up to see one of the miners who had taken to making the gap bigger grinning down at them.

"Survivors, my Lord. Five of them are headed this way."

Thorin perked up. "And Alana?"

The miner's face fell, and Thorin knew what was coming before he'd even spoken a word. "There's no sign of her, my Lord."

With a heavy sigh, Thorin nodded. "Keep going. We need to make sure everyone gets out safely." The miner's face became determined, and he and his helpers began chipping away at the boulders with renewed vigour. Thorin sighed again, facing Dwalin with fresh worry curling in the pit of his stomach. "What do you think she's doing?"

Dwalin shrugged. "Maybe checking for others down there." He huffed, patting Thorin's shoulder again. "She'll be okay, Thorin. Just be patient."

"Patience was never one of my greatest strengths," the dwarf grumbled, and Dwalin grinned.

"Something tells me it's something you'll have to master very soon," came the teasing reply, and while the bald dwarf chuckled to himself, Thorin just sent him a stony glare.

* * *

Alana was walking in circles. She'd come to the same bridge three times now, and she'd still had no progress finding the missing boy. With a heaving sigh, Alana headed down yet another new tunnel, having had to grab a fresh torch once her first one had begun to flicker and fade. This tunnel had no branching pathways – something she was endlessly grateful for – and it was some time before it came to an end. By her reckoning she had walked at least a mile from the bridge, and when she came back to the deep ravine she couldn't even see it.

Glancing around her, Alana was about to turn back and try another route when her ears picked up the sound of soft sniffles. She froze, tilting her head up to follow the sound, and her mouth fell slack at what she saw. There, at least thirty feet above her head, clinging to the side of a cliff, was a red haired dwarfling who was no bigger than Aragorn had been when he was two.

"By Mahal," she breathed, before quickly discarding her medical pack and placing her torch carefully on the ground, where it would hopefully remain burning without catching on anything else. She walked onto the pathway that hugged the sheer cliff until she was almost directly below the boy. "Are you alright?" she called up, and the boy loudly sobbed at the sound of her voice.

" ** _Ihsi! (Help!)_** " he shouted down to her, tears thick in his voice. "I can't get down!"

Alana swallowed, glancing at the rock and mentally working out her route up, before she grasped the rock and began the ascent up the cliff. She was slow and careful, though she sped up a little when she was close enough to notice the dwarfling's thin arms were shaking from the effort of having to hold on for so long.

It wasn't long before she drew alongside him, clinging to a jagged rock with each hand, her feet precariously perched on another one that jutted from the cliff. She looked over at him, noting the dirt smudges on his face, and the obvious tear tracks that ran down his cheeks. His eyes were dark – she couldn't tell their exact colour in the gloom of the cavern – and were filled with tears. "I've got you," she murmured softly, readjusting her hold on the cliff. "Can you climb onto my back?"

Slowly, the young dwarf nodded. He began shuffling closer to her, then quick as a flash he all but leapt on her, arms circling her neck while his legs wrapped like vices around her waist. She huffed at the sudden addition of weight – he was heavier than he looked, though she supposed it was probably just a dwarf thing – but kept her grasp on the cliff.

"Thank you," the dwarf whispered, burying his face in the space between her shoulders. He was still trembling, but his tears had subsided now.

Alana began slowly retracing her route back down, being a lot more careful now she had another life in her hands. In an attempt to stop him thinking about the rather intimidating drop below them, Alana began talking to him.

"What's your name?"

"Lokir, son of Hothir," he told her. He hiccupped. "At your ser-bus."

Alana smiled at his adorable mispronunciation of 'service', but nonetheless responded, "Alana, daughter of Arathorn, at yours and your family's."

"I know you," the boy told her. "You're King Thorin's new Queen."

Alana chuckled. "Not just yet, little one, but I will be."

"Is he nice?" Lokir asked curiously, then hiccupped again. " ** _Adad_** says he's a good and nice person, but I think he looks scary."

Her smile still on her face, Alana paused before answering, lowering herself onto a rather small platform that she almost immediately slipped off of again. She managed to regain her footing though, and was grateful that Lokir seemed none the wiser. "He is nice, yes," she told him, "and he's a very, _very_ good person. But he can also be quite scary when he wants to be – only when he's _really_ angry though, and that doesn't happen a lot."

"And are you a nice person?"

Laughing again, Alana careful lowered herself further. "Well, I like to think so. What do you think, Lokir? Do you think I'm a nice person?"

Lokir nodded, his whole body shaking from the amount of vigour he put into the motion. "You saved me," he pointed out. "You have to be nice to save me."

"Well, thank you, Master Lokir," she said with a hint of a tease in her voice that he probably didn't notice. "What were you doing all the way up there, anyway?"

"I saw a pretty stone; I'll show you when we get down. I wanted to get it for **_ama_**. She likes red jewels."

Alana hummed thoughtfully. "Well, perhaps next time you should try getting it from somewhere else, hmm? I'm sure your **_amad_** would much rather you were safe and sound than have another pretty jewel, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," he agreed, nodding against her back. "Lady Alana?"

"Yes, Lokir?"

"Do you have any food? I'm hungry."

Alana chuckled, glancing down and noting there was only about another ten feet to go. "I should have a little bit in my pack," she told him. "I imagine you haven't eaten for a while."

"Not since the earthquake."

Alana grinned to herself again, not bothering to correct the young dwarfling. To him, it had probably felt exactly like an earthquake might, and he'd have been terrified up there on his own. She was glad to have found him when she had – she wasn't sure how much longer the little lad could have held on to that rock. "I'd imagine you're quite tired too," she murmured, and Lokir nodded again.

" ** _Adad_** was s'posed to take me home when the earthquake happened," he told her. " ** _Ama_** will be scared for us, won't she?"

Alana pursed her lips as she descended the last few feet, before she stepped onto the bridge. With a brief sigh of relief, she lowered Lokir onto the floor before she smiled down at him and answered. "She probably was quite frightened," she agreed, "but you and your **_adad_** are strong, brave dwarves, and you're both okay. I'm sure she'll just be glad to see you again."

Lokir nodded, looking around. "Do you know the way back? Because I don't."

Chuckling, Alana crouched beside her pack and began rifling through its contents. "Yes, I know the way back. See that tunnel there?" She pointed ahead of her, and Lokir followed her finger with his eyes, nodding. "All those torches were lit by me. They'll lead us right back to the surface." She then hummed and pulled out a wrapped-up piece of bread from her pack. "Here you go," she said, handing it to him. "Don't eat it too fast, though. I gave away my water to the others, so you'll have nothing to wash it down with."

Already chewing on his first eager bite, all Lokir did was nod. Curling her lips upwards, Alana pulled the strap of her medical pack over her head, and then picked up her torch, before she began leading the way through the tunnel. Every now and then she glanced behind her to check that Lokir hadn't wandered off, but he remained a stalwart presence by her side. Still, his tiredness was clearly getting to him, and Alana kept having to slow her pace down to make sure he was able to keep up with her.

At long last they came to the bridge across the ravine, and as soon as he saw it Lokir let out a rather undignified squeak, jumping forward and clutching her empty hand hard. She paused and glanced at him, but he refused to meet her eyes, as if ashamed by his fear. Hiding another smile, Alana gently pulled him across the bridge, glad that he had the common sense not to look down. She was a little surprised that he remained clinging to her fingers even after they'd entered the covered tunnels, but didn't complain. 

"You know," she started, causing Lokir to look up at her from his position beside her, "you were really brave up there."

He beamed at her, puffing up his little chest with pride. "You think so?" he asked eagerly.

Alana nodded. "Definitely."

Lokir frowned. "But... but I was so scared," he admitted quietly.

Alana paused in her walk, turning to the boy and crouching on front of him. His eyes – which were a deep brown with golden flecks, she could see now – bore into hers, alight with curiosity as he waited for her to speak. "One thing you must understand is that bravery does not mean you're not scared," she told him. "Being brave often comes from being afraid. The two go hand-in-hand. You see, bravery, and courage, are simply the result your determination not to be ruled by fear. There's nothing wrong with being afraid – everyone is afraid at some point. The trick is to use it to feed your bravery. And that is what you did today."

Lokir was grinning almost shyly at this point, but his curiosity remained. "What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Do you feel fear?"

Alana scoffed. "Of course I do!"

"Are you sure? You don't look like you do."

Chuckling, Alana gently placed her hand on his shoulder. "Believe me, Lokir, I feel fear just as much as you do. Maybe more. It's all about controlling your fear, and not letting it control you." Her face fell slightly. "I had to learn that very young, and so did you." She shook her head, then smiled at him again. "Now," she stated with finality, straightening, "let's get you back to your **_ama_** and **_adad_** , yes?"

Nodding eagerly, Lokir grabbed her hand again and started off, dragging her along behind him. Alana laughed at his enthusiasm, letting him pull her along. When they reached the end of the tunnel, the pathway meeting the main mine shaft, Alana gave him a gentle nudge in the right direction after noting that the rockfall blocking the miners had been cleared enough for a dwarf to fit through the gap, and the two then continued on side-by-side.

"Oh!" The young dwarf paused again, making Alana tilt her head down curiously. He grinned and then dug around in his little boot, before pulling out a stone the colour of blood. "Here," he said, holding his hand up and offering the gem. "I promised I'd show you."

Alana took the stone that had caught his eye, examining it curiously. It was indeed beautiful, with little black crystals amongst the red, and was almost impossibly smooth for a natural stone. It wasn't very large, being maybe two inches long and half an inch wide and deep. She smiled. "It's stunning," she told him, handing it back. "Your **_ama_** is a lucky dwarrowdam for you to find this for her."

Beaming, Lokir returned the stone to its hiding place, before taking her hand again. Alana wasn't really sure why he did this, but if it helped him, then she was hardly going to stop him.

They continued their journey in silence, until they heard a shout up ahead.

"Lady Alana!"

Smiling, Alana waved jovially towards the dwarf perched at the top of the rock fall, before placing her torch back in its place on the wall. The she turned to Lokir and crouched down to place her hands under his arms. "Big jump, okay?" she murmured, and Lokir nodded, before springing up. She helped lift him as high as she could reach, made sure he had a strong grasp on the rock, before climbing up beside him. She settled on the rock and helped him climb higher again, until the little dwarfling was in reach of the dwarf miner, who took him from Alana's hands and gently pulled him through the gap. Then he disappeared, and Alana began to climb up, thankful that she didn't have such a small hole to climb back through. On the other side of the rock fall she glanced at the floor, noted that the ground was clear, and let herself fall the rest of the way. Her feet and legs juddered on impact, but she didn't have long to think on that.

Before she could blink Thorin was in front of her, yanking her into a quick but intense kiss, before pulling back and checking her over. "You're alright?" he asked, and Alana smiled.

She placed her hand on his cheek, her eyes warm. "I'm okay," she promised. "I'm unhurt. Everything went fine."

" ** _Adad_**!"

Her head snapped up at the young voice, and she watched with a smile as Lokir launched himself at a larger dwarf with equally red hair, who swept him up into a bone-crushing hug. "Lokir, you little tyke!" the dwarf murmured, voice choked with relief. "Don't you scare me like that again, you hear? Never again."

"Sorry, **_adad_** ," Lokir murmured, burying his face in his father's hair. "I won't scare you again, I promise."

Hothir laughed almost breathlessly. "Well, that's a promise I know you won't keep, **_gultalut_**. But I'm glad you're okay." He turned to Alana and smiled with gratitude. " ** _Âkminrûk zu,_** **_melhekhinhul. (Thank you, my Queen.)_** " He readjusted his hold on Lokir when the boy pulled away slightly, turning his head to grin at Alana, who in return offered a quick wink. "I will never be able to repay you for this."

Alana waved him off. "It was no trouble, Master Hothir. I'm just happy your son is safe and well."

Hothir nodded, and after Lokir waved goodbye to her (and she waved back with a smile), father and son turned away with the intention of heading home, a few others following in their wake.

Exhaling heavily, Thorin caught her attention again. He smiled. "Now that everyone is safely free from the mines, we can all rest a little. No doubt you're exhausted."

Alana huffed, nodding. "You have no idea. I was just about to go to bed when Bofur found me and told me about the collapse. Not to mention having to hunt for a _very_ elusive dwarfling."

With a chuckle and a smile, Thorin offered his elbow to her. "Then allow me to escort you back to your chambers, my Lady."

Snorting in a rather un-ladylike way, Alana accepted his elbow. "Why, thank you, my Lord!"

The two shared grins, before leaving the mine together, uncaring of the surreptitious glances that were shot their way. The whole mountain knew they were going to be married one day, and while they had been relatively careful in public, just this once they allowed themselves to show more of their love for one another; talking and laughing together, and pausing every now and then to share a kiss or two.

When at last they came to the royal quarters, Thorin paused by his door. He hesitated, then glanced up at her. "Will you come in?" he asked. "After what happened... I have no wish to part with you again, if I can avoid it."

"Thorin..."

"Please, Alana. Just this once."

With a gentle sigh, Alana's face softened, and she nodded. "Alright. Let me go and get ready for bed, and I shall join you after."

Smiling, Thorin pressed his lips to hers once more, and the two parted ways. It didn't take long for Alana to change out of her clothes and into her nightdress, and after pulling her hair out of its messy hold she left her room and silently slipped into Thorin's. He was stood by his fireplace, the fire crackling merrily, and turned to face her with a smile. His nightshirt was unbuttoned at the top, showing off some of the dark hair that grew on his chest, and Alana felt a pleasant shiver run down her spine at the sight of it.

Thorin smiled and offered a hand – which she took, of course – and led her to his bed. Alana pulled back the thick covers and crawled under them, while Thorin moved to the other side of the bed and did the same. The two met in the middle of the bed, their hands grasping onto each other in the space between them, and for a moment they simply stared at one another.

Then Thorin exhaled heavily, and he smiled. "I'm glad you're okay," he murmured. "I was worried."

Alana chuckled and leaned forward to peck the end of his nose. "Well, you shouldn't have been."

"I know," he admitted. "But I couldn't help myself." He tugged her hand to his lips, pressing a sweet kiss onto the back of her fingers. "I love you, **_atamanel_**."

Alana's eyes softened, and her smile could have melted all the ice atop the Misty Mountains. "I love you too, Thorin." The two shared another soft look, before they settled in to sleep, relishing in the warmth they shared with one another, and both secretly hoping that the day they became unified in marriage arrived very, _very_ quickly.


	5. When Reality Strikes

The morning sun streaming on her face was what woke her up, and Alana felt her face shifting into a frown. Not because of the sunlight itself, but rather where it was coming from. With a sleepy groan she shifted away from its light, only to suddenly notice the warm and solid wall of muscle behind her, and the heavy weight draped over her stomach. Almost instantly her eyes snapped open, though she just as quickly flinched away from the light streaming directly onto her face.

Calming her breathing and being extra careful not to jostle the bed too much, Alana glanced over her shoulder and saw Thorin's sleeping face in front of her. His breathing was deep and even, the stress lines of his skin fading away with the relaxed expression he wore. He looked peaceful; like the worries of his life had never existed.

Alana couldn't deny she loved being able to wake like this – wrapped loosely in his protective hold, being the only one able to see him in such a vulnerable state. On the quest, he'd never allowed himself to sleep this deeply; even the smallest noise could startle him into wakefulness. Right now, she would have bet a fair amount that it would take significantly more to disturb him.

With a smile on her face, Alana turned her head back, burying her face deeper into her pillow, her hand coming to tangle with his over her stomach so their fingers were entwined. Thorin shifted, his arm tightening its hold on her and pulling her more snugly against him, before he burrowed his head into her hair and inhaled deeply. His breathing had quickened now, and Alana knew he was in the process of waking. She kept still and quiet, her eyes closed against the bright sunlight, allowing him to wake up in his own time.

A sleepy noise crawled its way up from somewhere deep in his chest, and his fingers twitched against her stomach. Then came the gentle brush of his eyelashes against the skin of her neck as his eyes opened slowly, and she felt him blink a few times to draw away the last of his sleep. Then he hummed lowly, running his nose against the side of her neck, before pressing a whisper of a kiss against her skin. The bed shifted as he propped himself up on his arm, and Alana held her breath in eager anticipation for his next move. She almost jolted when she felt the press of his lips again, firmer this time. He kissed the juncture between her neck and her shoulder, then began peppering her shoulder and the top of her arm with the same sleepy kisses, and with a smile on her face Alana opened her eyes again.

" ** _Bakn galikh,_** ** _melhekhul, (Good morning, my King,)_** " she greeted, her voice still rough with the last remnants of her sleep.

Thorin released a small grunt, moving his lips to the top of her shoulder again, before he thoroughly attacked it. Alana shuddered at the sensation of his lips and tongue on her shoulder, sucking and licking and kissing her skin, leaving a raw, red mark. Thorin's hand wandered from her stomach to rest on the curve of her hip, and applied a little force, urging her to roll onto her back. She obliged him, her eyes meeting his and her cheeks flushed slightly. She smiled at him, then reached up with one hand and brought his mouth to hers, kissing him deeply. At first it was innocent enough, but then he pressed his tongue insistently at the seam of her lips, and when she parted her lips he delved deep within her mouth. Their tongues tangled and danced, her fingers curling in his hair while his hand tightened its grip on her hip, tugging her completely flush against him. 

They parted for barely more than a second, sucking in sharp lungfuls of air, and then their lips met again with the same passion and even more heat. Alana couldn't stop herself moaning, and Thorin shivered at the noise, somehow increasing his fervour in an attempt to rip such a noise from her a second time.

They were broken from their passions by the sound of a knock on the door. A moment of stillness overcame them, and for the first time Alana realised just how far they'd gone. One of her legs was nestled between his, while the other was hooked over his waist. Her nightdress was also slipping, revealing too much skin to be proper even for an engaged couple like them. Their eyes met, the same realisation dawning on him, before he sighed through his nose and placed one last kiss on her lips. Then they untangled themselves from one another, and Thorin got out of bed to answer the door while Alana flopped back onto the mattress, still trying to catch her breath.

With all the planning going on, not to mention the hunting trips she'd been taking with Kili, she'd had very little time left to spend with Thorin. She'd missed him more than she'd realised, and what just happened was a clear sign of that – she was so close to losing control of herself around him, and that really wasn't a good thing to happen before they were married. With a deep breath, Alana mentally told herself to get a grip.

Thorin's rumbling voice caught her attention, and she tilted her head towards the door to see him stood leaning against the door frame – so a close friend of his, otherwise he'd never allow himself to act so casually. The responding voice was higher pitched and warm, and with a smile Alana climbed out of the bed and made her way to the door.

She smiled when she clapped eyes on her future sister-in-law, who didn't so much as bat an eyelid at her. "Morning, Dís," she chirped.

"Hello, Alana. How are you feeling?"

Alana chuckled. "I'm okay, thank you. And thank you for looking after Estel yesterday; I really appreciate it."

Dís waved her off. "It was nothing, though I don't think you'll be able to get away with it again. He's determined to get you into the training area today. I've rearranged your meetings for the afternoon. And Master Bombur asked me to remind you of your promise – though he failed to tell me what it was, citing only that you'd understand."

Smiling gratefully at the dwarrowdam, Alana nodded and told her, "I do," then turned to Thorin and placed a kiss on his head. " ** _Adjini ag zâsakhizu gagin,_ ( _I'll see you later,)_** " she murmured softly, and upon receiving a tender squeeze of the hand in return, Alana made her way past the siblings and ducked into her room. She used her weight to close the door, leaning against it for a few more moments as her mind flashed back to what had just happened. She let out a pitiful groan. "At this rate, I am _never_ going to last until the wedding," she grumbled, before releasing a sigh and pushing away from the door to get changed.

* * *

She and Thorin had slept in somewhat later than she'd planned, so by the time Alana made it to the training area it was only a couple hours before lunch. She wasn't surprised to find that Aragorn was already there, his black bow in his hand, firing arrows at three separate targets. She was incredibly impressed by his progress in the last few months, his shots cleaner and faster, though there were still occasions where he didn't hit the target very well. He was under the watchful eye of their mother, who sent Alana a wide smile when their eyes met. Alana replied in kind.

Off to the side Fili and Kili were sparring together with their swords, and the rest of the training area was full of various others who were either clearly just beginning to learn, or had been warriors for many years.

"Hey, brother," Alana called cheerfully as she stepped into the area, drawing a few of the more curious eyes her way.

Aragorn paused in his shooting and spun around, greeting her with a wide grin. "Alana!" He waved at her, despite the fact she was only a few feet away. "Look! Look!" He spun around again, drawing another arrow. He took a little more time to line up his shot this time, but it was worth it – the arrow flew straight and true, slamming into the smallest circle at the centre of the target. He beamed, and Alana felt her chest swell with pride for him.

She got closer and pressed a lightning-fast kiss to his cheek, making him splutter and try desperately to wipe it off. Alana laughed. "Oh, it won't kill you," she reminded him.

Aragorn huffed. "You don't know that! It might."

"Well then, life as we know it has been completely redefined," she shot back, rolling her eyes, but still grinning. "You're doing well, Estel. I'll take you out into the forest soon, if you'd like."

Aragorn blinked at her, then grinned. "Really?!" 

Chuckling, Alana ruffled his hair. "Of course. You need the practice – a moving target is, after all, a lot harder to hit than a stationary one. I can teach how to track as well, if you'd like."

"You mean like you?" he asked. "Am I going to be a Ranger like you and _ada_?"

Smiling softly, Alana shrugged. "Well, if you want–"

"Yes!" he shouted, bouncing up and down in his eagerness. "I want to be just like you!"

"Well, okay then," laughed the woman. "But not today. I've already had to adjust my meetings for today to see you – I can't keep shirking my duties, I'm afraid."

Aragorn tilted his head up at her curiously. "What meetings?"

"Well," she started, leaning against the wall, while Aragorn ignored his bow in favour of listening to her, "I've got to meet with a few of the city tailors to get some new banners made; I've got to talk to a smith about the crowns for the ceremony–"

"You're planning Thorin's crowning?"

"It's called a coronation," she told him with a smile. "And yes, he's asked me to plan it. Dís is helping where she can, but I've got the bulk of the responsibility."

"Can I come with you?" he asked. "I know you're busy, but I haven't seen you in forever. I'll behave, I promise. I want to help."

Alana considered it for a moment, wondering whether the others would have issue with him being there, but – putting aside his bouts of rather energetic curiosity – he was a well-behaved boy, and she didn't foresee any trouble. So, she smiled at him and nodded. "Alright, then."

Letting out an eager cheer, Aragorn lunged forward and hugged her quickly, before skirting away and going back to his shooting. Alana shook her head in amusement at his almost skittish movements, marvelling over how young he still was, despite how quickly he was maturing. It was an odd combination, but she supposed she had probably been that way once.

"You look like your entire world has just been turned upside down," Kili noted as he and Fili slumped onto the ground next to her, their swords clattering onto the stone next to them, both of them covered in a light sheen of sweat and their faces flushed. 

Alana chuckled. "Yes, well, according to my little brother, kisses are the things that end your life."

Fili laughed. "Alana, that's something I've been saying since I was eight years old."

"And hey," Kili piped up, "the expression 'kiss of death' had to come from somewhere, right?"

Alana rolled her eyes. "You two are ridiculous," she grumbled under her breath, making the two brothers laugh.

"Seriously, though," Fili urged.

Alana sighed. "I don't know," she admitted. "I suppose it's just suddenly hit me that Estel isn't just a _boy_ anymore, you know? He's growing up. In a few years he'll be out in the wild on his own, exploring. He'll no longer be the little brother I have to protect from the world."

"That's not something that just goes away," said the blonde with a shrug. "Speaking as a fellow older sibling, you'll never be able to get it out of your head that protecting him falls to you. It's simply what being the older one means. Just because he's able to protect himself doesn't mean you suddenly can't look after him."

"I know," she murmured, "but it's just strange, you know? I'm so much older than him, even for my people. The world is a mystery to him, one I know he wants to explore, but part of me doesn't want him to."

"Why not?" Kili asked curiously, remembering distinctly a time when Fili was exactly the same. He'd never been able to work out what caused his brother's sudden protective streak, but he had a feeling Alana would be able to give him the answers he'd wanted back then.

Alana glanced at him, then at Fili, and the understanding look on the blonde's face. "Because one day he'll go out there, and the brutality of the world will hit him so hard that it'll rip away all the innocence he has left in him; the naivety. I know that I can't, but there's a part of me that's screaming to keep him hidden from that darkness." She shook her head. "It's stupid, I know. It just makes me feel..."

"Like an older sibling," Fili finished. "It's something we all go through. It's not stupid; it's perfectly normal. But you're right – you can't keep him locked away from what's really out there. He has to discover it all for himself. What you're forgetting is that, when he does, he'll have the option of coming back to you if he needs to. You don't have to be by him every second of the day to _be there_ for him, if that makes sense."

Alana smiled softly. "Yeah, it does." She glanced down at him. "Thanks, Fili."

"No problem," came the blasé response, and the mood lightened somewhat.

Kili hummed. "I have a question," he began, and the other two looked his way. He grinned. "Did you and Thorin ever settle that fight you had in Rivendell?"

Alana blinked. "What fight?"

"In the tournament," he explained. "There was no definite winner. I just wondered if you ever got the chance to compete against each other again."

Alana chuckled. "No, we never did. It's not like it matters all that much, anyway."

Kili scoffed. "It very much matters. I need to know if my uncle can be beaten by a woman who's almost eight times younger than him."

Alana blinked, the comment stalling her. She knew that Thorin was a lot older than her; of course she knew that. He'd have to be to have fought in the War of the Dwarves and Orcs. She had no real issue with that fact, and had grown to accept that she would long outlive him – unless her death came from something other than old age. But when put like that, somehow the knowledge struck her much harder than it had before. He was to turn 196 in almost two months, on June 17th; exactly a month after his coronation.

And then her heart came to a juddering halt, eyes widening and filling with tears.

Alana knew that most dwarves died around the age of 250, having spent the last ten years of their lives in a state of accelerated ageing. She remembered panicking upon hearing that, worrying about Balin, but she had been assured that his hair was white due to an excess of stress, rather than old age. She had realised then that Thorin likely only had five more decades to go before death claimed him. She knew this, and had accepted it as the harsh reality, even if she didn't like it.

What she hadn't realised was what this meant for any of his children. _Their_ children.

Even if they were to have a child right away, Thorin would only live to see around fifty to sixty years of its life. He would watch his sons or daughters grow to become adults (just barely), but would never live to see what they did with that life, nor what they achieved. They would spend most of their lives without a father to turn to for help, for advice, for comfort. She would have to bear the weight of being a single parent, of watching them go on with their lives without him, while trying to be a strong enough shoulder for them when they needed her. She knew that was what she would one day have to do, but the mere thought of existing in a world without him was enough to tear her heart in two. She had only just found him, and to know that she would one day go back to living without him by her side, physically or otherwise, was too much for her to bear.

"Alana?"

Alana ignored Kili's confused call as she spun on her heel and rushed back into the mountain. She ignored the people she crossed paths with, who sent her bewildered or compassionate (or, on some occasions, derisive) looks when they saw the horror on her face, the tears in her eyes. She ignored the fact that she was moving at all, letting her feet guide her wherever they wanted. She ignored everything, except the crippling pain in her chest. 

Eventually, Alana came to the same place that she'd wound up the last time things got too much for her – the Temple of Mahal. It didn't occur to her that there might be others in there, and she likely wouldn't have cared even if there were. Still, the room was entirely empty when she entered it, and in a small corner of her mind she was glad.

Alana approached the effigy of Mahal slowly, feeling almost ashamed of herself for only coming here when overcome by sorrow. But she had so far found that it was a place where she could release her tears without fear of judgement, and she often found her strength returning to her in here. Maybe the Smith really was looking over them here, and it was He who had provided her with this strength.

Whatever the reason, she was suddenly glad this was where her subconscious mind had taken her.

Alana knelt before the statue, stared up at Aulë's stone face, and allowed her defences to crumble. The Ranger put her face in her hands, and she wept.


	6. Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all, sorry for the long gap between chapters, I moved house a couple weeks ago and have only just started settling down from the chaos of that. Hopefully I'll be able to keep my updates more consistent in future, though :)

"What do you mean she's _missing?_ " Thorin demanded, furious.

Kili and Fili were stood before him, both of them pale and tired. They'd spent over two hours looking for Alana after she disappeared, but had found no sign of her. Erebor was a big place, and there was no way they could search every corner of it alone, so they had made the grim decision to inform Thorin.

Fili stepped forward, drawing Thorin's stormy gaze away from his brother. "We can't find her, Thorin," he began, trying to remain confident despite the thunderous expression on his uncle's face. "We've searched in all the places we thought she could be, but she's not in any of them."

"When did you last see her?" Thorin asked, inhaling and carefully reigning in his fear and anger. This was the second time in two days that Alana had disappeared somewhere, and it was the second time in two days that he was overcome by such a potent powerlessness that he began to lose every semblance of sanity and composure. 

"It was in the training area," Kili supplied, standing at his brother's side. He was calmer now that he knew Thorin had his temper under control. "We've have talked it over, and neither of us can understand what caused her to leave. She seemed fine one moment and then suddenly she was just _gone_."

"She'd been quiet, though," Fili put in. "For maybe two or three minutes, she'd clearly been thinking hard about something. Whatever it was must have upset her, but–"

"We don't know what it was," finished the brunette.

Thorin was pensive, a frown settling between his brows. "Where have you looked?" he asked at length.

"The forges, the mines, the market, the houses of everyone in the Company, the royal suites, the celebration hall, the throne room, the barracks, the stables, and both libraries. We even went back to the training area to see if she'd reappeared there, but no one has seen her since she first disappeared." Fili's listing was quick and efficient, and Thorin knew he had been running the locations over in his head, trying to think of somewhere that he had missed. Thorin was doing to same, but like his nephews, was coming up blank. 

He sighed. "How upset did she seem?"

The brothers exchanged glances, causing Thorin to raise an eyebrow. "She looked like she had been torn apart," Kili said at last, and Thorin's face crumpled at once. "The only time I've ever seen her like that was–" Kili cut himself off, his eyes widened as realisation spread over him.

"Was...?" Thorin prompted.

Kili swallowed, gathering his courage. "Was before the battle," he said at last.

Thorin blinked. "Why?"

"She was scared for you, uncle," Kili admitted quietly. "Terrified, really. She was afraid you wouldn't be able to save yourself from the gold sickness, and that she would lose you because of it."

Fili glanced at his brother. "Do you think she could have gone back there?"

"Where?" Thorin cut in, his voice strained now.

"Bilbo found her in an old shrine," the brunette told him. "When he couldn't help her, he found Fili and me and asked us to do what we could."

Thorin was striding towards the door before Kili had even stopped talking, knowing exactly where he'd meant.

He had apologised to Alana more times than he could count for everything that had happened while the gold sickness had run riot in his body, and she had assured him every time that she'd long since forgiven him, and that the past was the past. He hadn't known that he'd caused her so much pain she'd almost given up hope. It anguished him to even admit he'd fallen so far, but to know he'd all but dragged her down with him...

There must have been something written across his face that stopped people from getting too close to him, and it wasn't long before he found himself in front of a door he hadn't seen for over a century and a half. His grandmother had been the one to suggest a temple be built for their Maker, though this was long before Thorin himself was born. He remembered only dimly the times when she would lead him by the hand along these halls when he was still a child, urging him to confess his concerns to Mahal. At the time he'd been impatient, not believing it to be of any use, and had ceaselessly fought with her on the matter. His outlook had been completely changed when she passed away. 

Hindsight, he thought dully, truly made all the difference. It was what made him wish he'd done an awful lot of things differently.

Thorin pushed open the door with as little noise as possible, hoping not to startle her. The temple was empty of all life except hers, though to even say that might have been slightly presumptuous. Alana's body was sprawled across the floor, her figure curled up into a foetal position, the occasional sniffle being almost the only clue that she was even awake.

Thorin felt his heart throb and clench in his chest at the sight of her. " ** _Ma biratabzarizu tada akrisikizu? (Do you mind if I join you?)_** " he asked, worried that he had been making assumptions. Her entire being seemed to call out for a comforting hand (one he was happy to give, even if comforting really wasn't his forte), but if she wished to be alone, then he knew there was nothing he could do to deny her. 

" ** _Lu bir, (Of course not,)_** " came her tearful response, her voice cracking.

"What's wrong, **_badgûna_**?" he asked with a gentle voice, lowering himself onto the cold floor beside her and tenderly pulling her into a seated position. "Tell me what troubles you."

And she did. With a shaking voice and trembling limbs, Alana told him about her concerns with his age, about what would happen when he inevitably passed on, to her and any children they might have in the future. 

"How can I bear it?" she asked at length. "How can I bear the pain of your passing, when the mere thought of it alone brings such terror to my heart? What could I possibly do to make it bearable?"

Thorin softly shushed her, pressing a whisper of a kiss to the crown of her head. "You will have those who love you to pull you through," he reminded her. "I cannot deny that I wish it were not so, but you will likely outlast me by many years, and you must find the strength to endure. Draw from those who love you; your brother, my sister, my nephews, and any sons or daughters we might one day have. They will be your reason to keep fighting, should you need it."

"I don't want to," she admitted. "I don't want to live in a world where you are not. We..." She shuddered, burrowing her face into his chest, her hands grasping the front of his shirt in an iron grip. "We may not be together in death, Thorin. You are a dwarf; I am human. Our races dwell in different places in the afterlife. What if the last day you live in Middle Earth is the last day I shall ever spend with you, in life and in death?"

Thorin sighed. "Alana, I don't know what will happen," he admitted. "With a little luck, I may yet live to be four hundred years old, but equally a war could start and I could die tomorrow. That is how it always is – something could happen at any moment, but we continue to live out our lives as if we intend them to never end. That is simply what we must do. The future is a mystery, and it will _always_ be a mystery. We cannot let the unknown force us to live in fear."

"I don't want to lose you," she whimpered, and Thorin's heart clenched at the raw pain and honesty in her voice.

He buried his face in her hair, pulling her closer. "I don't wish to lose you either, **_sanâzyung_**. Mahal knows that is the last thing I want. But we cannot stop time, and we cannot control it." He used his finger to gently tilt her tear-stained face up to him. "All we can do," he murmured, "is make the most of the time that has been given to us." Then he lowered his head and pressed a sweet kiss to her lips, and slowly she began to respond.

She pulled back after a few seconds, laying her head on his chest again and releasing a sigh. "Do you ever wonder what our future will be like?" she asked him with genuine curiosity, and Thorin hummed in response.

"At times. But then, doesn't everyone?"

"What do you think about?"

Thorin pondered for a moment. "Mostly I wonder about our lives. When I think of the future, I tend to forget about the kingdom and our people, and instead I focus on our family. I wonder about our children, how many we will be blessed with, what their names shall be. I wonder whether they'll take after your family or mine. I wonder at what age I shall ask Fili to take over the throne, so we may live our older years without the burden of the crown."

"Fili?" she cut in. "Not our child?"

"I do not wish to rule this mountain for long. By the time I give up the crown, they will not be old enough," came the soft reply. "I will ask that Fili pass the throne to one of our children when he too is ready to move on, but, with my current plans, our children will be barely into adulthood when Fili will be ready to take up the mantle of King. That is too young an age to be a ruler." He smiled to himself. "What about you? What do you picture in our future?"

"You. You are the only constant in all my images. Sometimes Kili and Fili are there with us, but sometimes we are alone in the wild somewhere. Sometimes we have a child, sometimes two or three. My brother appears frequently too, but he comes and goes, as a Ranger does. In all that, the one thing that never changes is your presence by my side." She paused, then with a voice so quiet he could barely hear, Alana confessed, "I could be without everything else if only I had you, Thorin. I am sure of this with every bone in my body. It is why the thought of your death brings such terror to me."

Thorin couldn't find the words to fully express how that confession made him feel, how touched he was to be held in such high regard by the woman he had given his heart to, and yet how much it hurt to think he would one day be the cause of such pain.

So, he said nothing, and instead chose to pull her closer. She seemed to understand, because she clung to him just as tightly, and released a sigh of contentment. It was a while before either of them moved again.

* * *

The afternoon went on as planned – Alana was met in the celebration hall by three different tailors, all of whom had agreed to work together to make sure everything was done in time for the coronation, and Aragorn was stood at the side, watching with barely contained curiosity. The dwarves seemed to find the boy amusing, and even brought him over to be included in their conversations sometimes. Alana was grateful for that little show of acceptance, and Aragorn seemed to love being involved, even if he didn't get to do much. 

Once the tailors had left, Alana took Aragorn by the hand and led him down towards the forges. It was here that all the smiths tended to work, as they had easy access to gold and silver, not to mention a dozen other types of metal, and various uncut gemstones, too. Alana gave Aragorn strict instructions not to get in anyone's way, nor to get too close to the forges themselves, but otherwise let him wander as he wished while she talked to an old dwarf called Galmar about the Princes' crowns. They each had a few preliminary design ideas that they shared with one another, talking about the different positives and negatives of each, before sketching out one final design that they were both happy with.

All in all, this took about an hour, by which time Aragorn had wandered back into the forge, perched himself on the only available chair, and fallen fast asleep. Alana and Galmar chuckled at the sight of him curled up into a ball, and while the smith went to work gathering the necessary materials for Fili and Kili's crowns, Alana approached her brother and gently shook him awake.

He grumbled, batting her hands away. Alana chuckled. "Come on, sleepyhead. Let's give Galmar his space."

"M'sleeping," Aragorn grumbled, yawning.

"It's only mid-afternoon!" Alana protested with a laugh. "Come on, if you get up, I can take you to meet Bombur's kids."

Aragorn's eyes flashed wide in an instant, all signs of tiredness gone. "Really?"

Alana nodded, smiling and stepping back as he jumped to his feet. "I'm done for today, and since you've been bugging me about it for weeks, I figured we might as well. I haven't seen Bombur in all that time, and it'll be nice to catch up with him and his family."

Aragorn beamed, then grabbed Alana by the hand and dragged her towards Bombur's family's house. Alana laughed at his enthusiasm, allowing herself to be manhandled.

Getting there involved making their way through the market, which was thankfully now bustling with life and activity. Aragorn ignored everyone as he continued to tug on Alana's arm impatiently, but the two were not ignored by others. Murmurs and whispers followed their progress through the market, and there was a definite stir in the air – it suddenly felt charged with... well, if Alana didn't know better, she'd think it was excitement. She had no idea what they'd be so excited about, though.

At the very least, not until a particularly broad-shouldered dwarf with a large, grey beard moved towards them, his eyes a particular shade of green that tugged at her memory. Alana paused, making Aragorn sigh in frustration, but then he noticed their new companion and it all but faded.

Before the dwarf could speak, Alana asked him, "You wouldn't happen to be related to Cardac, son of Cardin, would you?"

He blinked. "I am. How did you know?"

"Your eyes," she stated with a shrug. "They're the same colour. Your faces also bear the same basic shape."

The dwarf blinked a few times more, clearly startled by her observations. "Well," he said at length, clearing his throat, "Cardac is my brother. He came home yesterday with one hell of a story to tell. I want to thank you for helping him down there."

Alana shook her head. "Cardac and the rest got themselves out. I did nothing."

"You got them started," the dwarf protested. "And you gave up your water to them. My brother admitted he didn't think they were gonna get out, 'til you came along. Not to mention you going after Hothir's young lad like that. So, on behalf of them all, and myself, thank you."

Slightly surprised by his genuine gratitude, Alana simply smiled with a touch of shyness. "It was no trouble at all; I was happy to help."

The dwarf chuckled, murmuring something under his breath, making Alana cock an eyebrow curiously. He continued on, pretending not to notice, and Alana decided not to push him about it. "Well, I won't keep you. Just wanted to thank you for your help." He bowed, and began to turn away, when Alana called him back.

"What is your name?"

He tilted his head, grinning. "Rordin, at your service," he told her, bowing again.

"Well, Master Rordin, it was a pleasure to meet you. And tell your brother I sent my well wishes, if you would."

Rordin grinned. "Of course, my Queen."

Alana shook her head, chuckling. "I'm not the Queen yet, Master Dwarf. Just Alana is fine."

"Maybe not officially," he said, "but King Thorin has chosen you as his wife, and you are already acting like any good Queen would. It is a title you have come to deserve."

Alana gaped at him, unable to find any words to speak, but was snapped from her shock when Aragorn giggled from below her. "Close your mouth, Alana, or you'll catch flies," he teased.

Rolling her eyes, Alana ruffled her brother's hair. "You've been spending too much time with Kili and Fili," she shot back.

Her point was only further evidenced by the speed of his comeback – he had always been pretty sharp with his retorts, but this was almost uncanny. "I wouldn't have to if you were there."

Alana stared at him. "Ouch," she muttered at last. "You know, I might just say we should cancel our trip to Bombur's for that comment."

"What?" His head snapped up in horror. "No!"

Alana poked his nose gently. "Lucky for you, I'm in a good mood." She turned back to Rordin, who had been watching their interaction with a knowing smile on his face. "It was good meeting you Rordin, son of Cardin, however I'm afraid I have a ten-year-old brother to look after."

"Hey, I can look after myself!" Aragorn protested with a pout, but Alana didn't so much as blink.

Rordin chuckled. "So I see." He tilted his head to the side, and Alana caught the hint of a challenge in his eyes before he said, " ** _Gaubdûkhimâ gagin yâkùlib Mahal. (May we meet again with the grace of Mahal.)_** "

Alana chuckled. " ** _Mukhuh Mahal udnîn zu ra sanzigil umkhûh_** **_zu, (May Mahal keep you and mithril find you,)_** " she responded, and then left the dwarf with a parting grin, before allowing Aragorn to lead the way once more.

* * *

Bombur had chosen one of the larger houses Thorin offered, to ensure that his whole family would fit inside it. Alana wondered belatedly how Cinna could possibly bear to give birth to _nine_ children, although she supposed there was almost fifty years of age between their oldest and youngest (their oldest, Bomfur, was 59 years old, and their youngest, little Bambur, was the same age as Aragorn).

Despite being the same age in years, Bambur was still very young by dwarven standards, and so his behaviour was more like that of a five-year-old child. As a result, Alana figured Aragorn was more likely to get on with the dwarves around the age of twenty, of which there were three – Balur, Renna and Finna. Renna and Finna were twins, apparently, which had surprised her. She wasn't quite sure when, or why, but Alana had automatically assumed that dwarves didn't have twins. Thorin had patiently explained that they were very, very rare, but they were not impossible. It was considered to be a gift from the Valar whenever twins were born – a sign of their favour.

Cinna was the one to greet them at the door, and she blinked in surprise at seeing Alana and Aragorn waiting for her with identical smiles on their faces. "L-Lady Alana!" she stuttered, flushing red and clearly flustered.

"Hello, Lady Cinna," she greeted in return, her smile broadening. "I was hoping Bombur would be in. We had planned to see each other this afternoon, and my brother is rather eager to meet you children, if that's not a problem."

Cinna blinked a few times, then seemed to gather her wits. "No, no, of course. Come in." She stepped back and Aragorn all but bounded into their house, while Alana rolled her eyes as subtly as she could and then followed behind. "I hope you don't mind the mess," Cinna grumbled. "I try to keep the house as clean as possible, but with nine children who still haven't reached maturity..."

Alana chuckled. "It's alright, Lady Cinna. I remember when my brother was younger – he used to make enough mess for nine, believe me."

"I heard that!" came Aragorn's slightly petulant reply, and Alana shared a grin of amusement with the blonde dwarrowdam.

"I would have thought Bombur would tell me about this, though," Cinna muttered, looking a little confused. "Unless he planned to surprise me." She huffed. "Oh, that dwarf!"

Alana sent her an apologetic look. "If it's an issue, I can–"

"Oh, no, not at all," Cinna cut in, waving her off. "Honestly, I could use the female company."

"You do have three daughters," Alana pointed out with a grin.

"Two of whom are barely in their twenties, and the other is currently in the market!" Cinna retorted, then paused, glancing up at the Ranger curiously. "Actually, Bombur's not here either."

"I'm here a little earlier than originally planned," Alana admitted. "I managed to get my other duties finished much quicker than I thought I would."

"Ah, I see." Cinna smiled kindly up at her. "Well, I was just in the middle of making dinner. Would you care to keep me company?"

Alana chuckled. "As long as you don't ask me to cook. Cutting vegetables and dealing with meat when its raw is all well and good – unfortunately, my cooking skills are only just enough to keep me going in the wild."

Laughing, Cinna nodded. "That's alright – cooking's my passion, as it is Bombur's. The odd helping hand doesn't go amiss, but I don't mind the work."

"A good thing, too," Alana mused, "with all the mouths you have to feed. I can't imagine how much all the food costs you!"

Cinna hummed. "Yes, well, that's no issue now. With Bombur's payment for that quest of yours, we're set for life. And then some!" She patted Alana on the arm. "Now, come on, dear. Let's get you a chair, and then you can tell me a bit more about yourself."


	7. Future Within Sight

Alana could barely contain her laughter as Cinna told her about the one time it had snowed in Ered Luin during little Bambur's lifetime, and about how Bombur had somehow fallen asleep in said snow. The family had proceeded to bury him where he rested (except for his head, of course), and refused to help him get up when he woke. By the time he'd finally managed to dig himself out, he'd missed both lunch and dinner, and had spent almost a whole week sulking about it.

It was only at this point that Alana's laughter broke free, and just as Cinna joined in, the front door opened. 

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear!" Cinna announced with a smile. "Bombur, you old lout, you're late!"

"Sorry, Cinna," came Bombur's voice from the main room. "Bifur asked for some help down in the market, and we lost track of time."

"Well," Cinna huffed, "you're lucky I was here to keep your friend company!"

There was a pregnant pause, and then Bombur poked his head around the door and beamed. "Alana, you're still here! I'd have thought you'd have left by now. I am so sorry for the delay."

Alana chuckled. "It's no issue. Cinna and I had the chance to talk and learn about each other, and I'm glad for that."

Cinna hummed. "You and me both, dear," she murmured, and Alana shot her a grin and a wink. Everyone jumped when there was a sudden crash from the next room, and then poor Cinna released a tired sigh. "Oh, those boys..."

"I've got it, don't worry," Alana said, getting up before the dwarrowdam could argue. "I think it's about time I checked on Estel, anyway." She sent Cinna a smile, patted Bombur amiably on the shoulder, and then headed into the back room, where five of Cinna's children were all playing together, with Aragorn. The crash appeared to have come from a large tower of wooden blocks being knocked over – nothing serious, thank Mahal.

Aragorn seemed to be having the time of his life, laughing with one dwarf in particular, who was still too young to have grown a beard, and seemed to be about Aragorn's age in maturity.

Aragorn spotted her almost as soon as she paused in the doorway, and instantly rushed up to her. "Alana, come and meet my friend!" Chuckling fondly at her little brother, Alana watched as the dwarf Aragorn had been laughing with approached her with a touch of shyness that he was obviously trying to hide. Aragorn placed his arm around the dwarf's shoulder as introduced proudly, "This is Balur!"

Balur grinned at her, some of shyness dissipating, and performed the customary low bow of greeting. "At your service, Lady Alana."

Alana grinned. "And I am at yours, Master Balur. Thank you for keeping my brother company."

Balur beamed. "He was telling me about some of the adventures you've been on!" he told her eagerly, causing Alana to arch an eyebrow at her brother, who suddenly didn't want to meet her eyes. Balur's voice drew her eyes back to him. "Is it really true you fought with trolls?"

Alana chuckled. "I did, yes, although the Company was later captured by them."

Balur's eyes widened in half-fear and half-awe. "Really?! All of you? How did you escape?"

Grinning, Alana settled herself down on the floor, trying to hide the swell of warmth when she saw Aragorn and Balur sit down in front of her, so close that she could have thought they'd been friends for years. She made a mental note to make sure the two boys had more chances to see each other in future.

"Well," she started thoughtfully, "you see, trolls are not the smartest grapes in the bunch, and so while we were captured and tied up, they made no attempt to lower their voices. They mentioned how sunlight turns them to stone, and a little hobbit in our group by the name of Bilbo Baggins had the ingenious idea of stalling for time. So, up he hopped – still wearing a very large sack, mind you – and started prattling on about the best way to cook a dwarf." Balur looked utterly horrified, while Aragorn was all but bouncing with glee. He'd wormed every last detail from her about the quest that he could, but that didn't seem to satiate his curiosity and enthusiasm; she'd had to repeat several parts of their adventure many times in the last few weeks. "Looking back, I know of course that he only meant to help us, but at the time I didn't, and the dwarves and I were really quite upset about that. The trolls were quick to start arguing about what Bilbo suggested, and eventually came to the conclusion that eating dwarves raw was the best way. Then one of them picked up your father and threatened to eat him right there on the spot!"

Balur giggled slightly, which perplexed Alana for a moment, until he spoke. "I bet **_adad_** gave it a few good hits for that!"

Alana chuckled. "Oh, he'd already done that before – he's got a powerful swing, your father. But no. Once again, it was Master Bilbo who came to the rescue. Bilbo jumped in and claimed that we were all infested with parasites, and the troll dropped your father back onto the ground without a second thought. With some... _gentle_ prodding from Thorin, who was the first to work out Bilbo's plan, the rest of us started trying to convince the trolls that yes, we were indeed infested with parasites. In the confusion that followed, Gandalf, the grey wizard, showed up. It was seemingly a small matter for him to raise his staff and split a rock in two, and the morning sunlight went streaming into the clearing. The trolls were stone within seconds, and we were able to get free." She deliberately left out that she had been hurt – she never told her brother about the worst of her injuries, not wanting to give him any nightmares about them. He was growing up now, but he was still just a boy, and she knew he wouldn't like hearing about her getting hurt.

"Wow," Balur breathed. "I can't believe my **_adad_** almost got eaten by a troll!"

Alana frowned, though there was a bemused smile on her lips even as she did so. "Has your fathernot told you this?"

Balur shook his head. "Hedoesn't like telling stories, and Uncle Bofur hasn't been here enough to ask him to do it."

"Ah, yes," the Ranger said with a laugh, "Bofur certainly is a skilled storyteller. I'm sure he could make an ordinary walk in the woods sound interesting." With that, Alana stood up, patting Balur on the shoulder and playful ruffling Aragorn's hair – and consequently making him pout at her – before she turned back to the kitchen to talk to Cinna and Bombur.

* * *

Gilraen was getting ready for bed when Alana finally returned Aragorn to the guest suite. Aragorn was dragging his feet at this point, all his previous energy having completely vanished. Their mother was wearing a white nightdress, which had been brought over from the flourishing market in Dale for her use. Dale had much better relations with the Woodland Realm than Erebor (understandably so, though the dwarves and elves were slowly – _very_ slowly _–_ becoming more amiable towards one another), so they had been able to get an elvish nightgown for her, much to Gilraen's delight.

After ushering her brother into his bedroom to change into his nightclothes, Alana turned to her mother with a smile. "How have you been recently?" she asked, pulling her hair out of its braid. "I haven't seen you much in the past few days."

Gilraen smiled softly. "I'm okay, thank you. I ventured into Dale yesterday, and spent many an hour there. The people are very good and kind, and quite generous too."

"They've spent most of their lives living with barely a thing," Alana explained with a touch of sympathy to her tone. "It's not in their nature to ask for a lot."

Gilraen nodded thoughtfully. "I spent the day with Lady Dís today," she said, voice more cautious now. "She's a rather... boisterous woman, don't you think?"

"Yes, but she's a dwarf," Alana agreed with a shrug, crouching in front of the fire and grabbing a fire poker to gently readjust the burning logs. "Most of them are like that."

Her mother nodded slowly. "Yes, yes, I know, I just... It's a bit of a shock, when I am used to the behavioural habits of the elves."

Alana froze in her movements, then turned to face Gilraen, frowning. "Are you uncomfortable here?" she asked in concern. "I always knew you would be happier in Rivendell, but–"

"No, no," Gilraen cut in, shaking her head. "I'm fine, truly. But you are right that Rivendell is my home, and it is your brother's too – at least until such a time when he ventures out into the wild. We will need to return at some point, _pinig._ Your brother needs Lord Elrond's guidance, and I'm afraid I cannot see myself staying here very long."

Alana stared at her mother for a moment, before she swallowed thickly and stood, returning the fire poker to its place beside the heart. "When will you leave?" she asked.

Gilraen bit her lip, before inhaling sharply and responding, "I was thinking after King Thorin's coronation."

Alana flinched like she'd been physically struck. "You don't plan on staying for our wedding?" she asked, voice small.

Gilraen sighed. "Alana, we do not yet know when that will be. It could be in two months, or it could be in two years. Eru knows I would love to be there, but Estel and I have to go _home_ , _pinig_."

"And if it _is_ in two months?" Alana asked, a bite to her tone now as she tried to stamp down the crushing hurt she felt. "Would you stay not even a month later for that?"

"If you know for sure when it is by the time of the coronation, then yes, of course." Gilraen glanced at the floor sadly. "I'm truly sorry, Alana, but–"

"Alana!" Gilraen was cut off by Aragorn's return, dressed now in a loose, soft tunic and a pair of old breeches. He paused by the door, frowning when he noticed the upset look on his sister's face, and the sad, pleading one on his mother's. "Alana?"

Alana blinked away her tears and turned to look at him. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Estel, but I have to go." She forced a smile. "Goodnight, _muindor_." Then she glanced once more at her mother, noting the slightly ashen quality her face had taken on, before she shook her head and left the room.

Alana didn't so much as hesitate before she entered Thorin's chambers, nor did she bother to knock or announce her presence beforehand – she simply opened the door and shut it firmly behind her. She then crossed the room with long strides, before collapsing onto his bed. Thorin stared at her with his mouth half-open in shock from where he was sat at his desk, a tattered piece of paper in front of him. Frowning at the expression on her face, Thorin returned his quill to its place in the black inkpot at the back of his desk, before he stood and made his way over to her. 

When he sat down on the edge of the bed, her eyes were swimming with tears, and faint trails of those already fallen lined the side of her face. "What's wrong, **_amrâlimê_**?" he asked softly, running his finger along her cheek and wiping away the tear that had started to fall.

Alana sighed, her face pinched with sorrow. "My family won't be here for the wedding," she told him, her voice cracking and hoarse. "My mother and Aragorn are going to head back to Rivendell after your coronation, apparently, unless we know for sure when the wedding will happen."

Thorin's face crumpled in sympathy, and he quickly drew her up into his arms, wrapping her up completely and letting her bury her face in his chest. "Alana, we can talk to the council about the wedding whenever we want to," he reminded her softly. "We can get them to agree to it and start planning before they have to leave." He sighed when she didn't move, dropping a sweet kiss on the top of her head. "If you want them to be there, we will make it so they are."

Alana sighed, the sound muffled by the material of his tunic. "But we want to give the council a chance to... to get used to me. To get used to the idea of _us_. We can't afford to rush this, Thorin."

"They have been here a few weeks now," he pointed out quietly. "Perhaps that is long enough." He pushed her back, then cradled her face in his hands, his calloused thumbs wiping away the fresh tears from her cheeks. "Whether with their approval or not, I _will_ marry you, Alana. And I will not have you go through that day without your family there. I will talk to the council about it tomorrow, alone, and then we will talk about facing them together, okay? Everything will be alright in the end, I promise."

* * *

Alana spent the following morning with Ori in the library, continuing with her khuzdul lessons. They had decreased in number now – only one every four days – due to her progress, and her other duties keeping her busy, but Ori had insisted quite forcefully that she would not stop until he had taught her all he knew himself. She had a feeling that might take a while, but didn't complain. She still enjoyed the lessons, and was finding it easier and easier to get through them without becoming frustrated with herself. 

The two of them were interrupted around an hour and a half into the lesson by Thorin, who came into the library so quietly that they almost didn't notice him. It was only the creak of the door as it closed that caught their ears, and the two looked up in unison to watch as the soon-to-be King walked in.

"Might I talk with Alana in private, Ori?" Thorin asked, smiling at the younger dwarf, who offered a little smile in return and nodded. The usually rather shy dwarf had grown in confidence since the start of the quest, and despite the fact Thorin was to be King one day, the two shared a more kin-like friendship that superseded the fact that Thorin would be Ori's ruler. Thorin had been very clear about that – the Company would go on treating him like a friend, not as a monarch. They had earned that much, he said.

Alana put down her quill and pushed aside her paper, wordlessly inviting Thorin to sit beside her. He did so without hesitation, though the furrow of his brows made her worry.

"What is it, Thorin?" she asked nervously, almost fearing the answer. "Did you talk to the council?"

"I did."

"And?"

He blew out a long breath. "They have agreed to meet with us both later, but I believe they are divided. Half seem to support you – some far more emphatically than I would have thought – while the other half are still in doubt. There are, admittedly, one or two who will no doubt stir up trouble and try to fully oppose it." He sighed, then met her gaze with his own, his eyes firm and determined. Thorin captured her hands in his own and waited until she relaxed a little before speaking again. "We're walking what may be a long road," he whispered, leaning forward so his forehead rested against hers. "But we will walk it together, every step of the way, and we will convince them."

"But what if we don't?" she asked miserably.

Thorin chuckled. "Remember, Alana, that the purpose of the council is to _advise_ the King. They have no power to stop me from doing whatever I wish. Having their support would be better, but if we cannot win them over before the coronation, than I shall announce our wedding without their support." He placed a hand on the back of her neck, drawing her in for a quick but loving kiss. "I promised we would make sure your family are there for the wedding, and I intend on keeping that promise. The council can complain and protest until they're blue in the face for all I care; this _will_ happen."

With a smile curling at her lips, Alana nodded slowly. "I believe you," she murmured, "but I do hope I can win them over. I have no desire to cause problems. And I know that if the council is divided in this, even after we are married, we will find ourselves constantly facing problems."

"I have complete faith in you," Thorin muttered with a smile, shifting to press his lips to her forehead. "Now," he said, clearing his throat and pulling back, "I believe you have studies to return to, my Lady."

Alana snorted. "Studies which _you_ interrupted, my Lord," she shot back, grinning. "I shall claim no responsibility if I fall behind."

With a fond chuckle, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Then I shall bother you no longer."

He turned and began walking away, but after a moment, Alana called out to him. "Thorin." He paused and looked back at her, his expression questioning. "I love you."

His face softened, and his smile sent a warm shiver through her. "I love you too, Alana." With another shared smile, Thorin left the library, and Ori wandered back in a few seconds later.

"Is everything okay?" he asked with concern. 

Alana smiled. "Everything's fine," she assured him. "Thorin was just informing me we're to meet in front of the council this afternoon."

"Am I allowed to ask what for?" His face was cautious, as if fearing he'd offend her, though they both knew that was incredibly difficult to do.

With a shrug, Alana told him, "We're going to talk to them about getting married. My mother wishes to return to Rivendell before long, so we are speeding things up to ensure that she and my brother will be here for the wedding."

"I wish you luck, though I don't think you'll need it," Ori said with a grin. "I'm sure they'll agree to it in no time."

Laughing, Alana nodded. "I hope you're right, and I appreciate your confidence. I guess we'll just have to see how things go."

"If you ever need any help, the Company will provide it," he told her seriously. "Anything at all, understand?"

Alana blinked at the rare show of force behind his words, but then smiled, touched by his words and the promise behind them. "I understand," she murmured softly. "Thank you, Ori."

Ori beamed. "It's what friends are for." He glanced at Alana's page, and Alana physically saw the change in him as his mind returned to the lesson. She allowed him to continue, smiling to herself for the rest of the lesson.


	8. Council of Thirteen

"You must be mad to think I'm letting you go in there alone!" Dís protested heartily, a stern frown on her face. 

Alana chuckled, sitting in front of a mirror and allowing Dís to tidy up her hair for the council meeting. "I'll hardly be alone," she pointed out. "Thorin will be there, of course, and don't forget Balin is also part of the council. They're more than enough."

Dís huffed. "You don't know those Lords like I do, Alana," she said more seriously. "Some of them could have been vultures in another life; or wolves."

Alana raised an eyebrow. "I've still probably faced worse."

Shaking her head, Dís' fingers paused, and she stepped around Alana to face her properly. "I cannot stress enough how important this meeting is," the Princess said, and Alana's face dropped upon hearing the genuine fear and worry in Dís' voice. "I know as well as you that Thorin's decisions are final, and he won't let the council stop the two of you from getting married. But the dwarves in the council still have power – they are very high up in society, and a lot of them would do anything to remain there. _Anything._ "

Alana blinked. "Okay... But why would that affect this meeting?"

Dís sighed. "Because some of them have family members that they had hoped to marry off to someone of higher social standing. For some, that means marrying directly into the royal bloodline. They see you as an obstacle in their route to power. There are two in particular who you must be wary of – Lords Venrik and Boitu. Both have dwarrowdams in their family within fifty years of Thorin's age, and both have been trying to draw his eyes their way for longer than I can recall. My brother never showed any particular interest in either of the dams, but your arrival has meant that the Lords' chances to marry them off have all but disappeared. So be wary of them – they are easily insulted, easily angered, and I have no doubt that they may fall upon less-than-honourable means to further their own ends."

With a cocked eyebrow, Alana asked, "You mean you think they'll try to kill me?"

After a second of pause, Dís shook her head. "In all honesty, no, I find that very unlikely. They are not kind, by any means, but I don't think they would dare to make an attempt on your life. But they may try to threaten you, or scare you off. I wouldn't put it past either of them to even attempt kidnapping you and tricking Thorin into believing you have left him of your own choice."

Alana was quiet for a moment, mulling over Dís' words, but then her face hardened, and she turned her eyes back to the mirror. "Let them try," she said coldly, and with a sigh Dís let the matter drop, returning to her place behind Alana and making the last few adjustments to the Ranger's hair. Then a new thought stuck her mind, and Alana cautiously asked, "Dís, how did you cope after your husband died?"

Dís froze in place, caught off guard by the question. Then she sighed. "It wasn't easy," the dam admitted. "There were many moments when I thought it would be impossible for me to go on living without him. The early days were the worst – I kept turning to speak to him, and sometimes I sat for hours in front of the fire waiting for him to come home, only to remember that he was never coming back." She placed her hands on Alana's shoulders, meeting the woman's eyes in the mirror. "Fili and Kili kept me going," she said. "They needed me, and their father's death hurt them just as much as it did me. It was my determination to be there for them that helped me to cope." Her eyes lowered. "But one thing you must understand is that the pain of loss never goes away completely. I still miss him dearly, despite not having seen him for more than seventy years. And it still hurts to think that he's gone from this world."

Alana averted her gaze to the ground, fiddling with her fingers. "Thorin will die one day," she whispered. "And I will have to go on without him." She met Dís' gaze again, eyes tearful. "When that day comes, will you help me? I don't think I'll be able to get through it alone."

"You'll never be alone, **_namad_** ," Dís murmured soothingly. "And I will help as much as I can. I cannot promise I will be able to take the pain away, though. I know you have lost your father, but I must warn you that losing your other half... it's a different kind of agony, a special kind of torture. When he dies, you will bear the hole in your heart that he leaves behind for the rest of your life."

Alana smiled sadly, nodding her head. It was a harsh subject to talk about, but she appreciated Dís' honesty on the matter.

With a sharp inhale, Alana glanced over her appearance in the mirror and then stood up. "I ought to go before I'm late," she said, smiling at Dís with as much sincerity as she could muster. "Thank you, _muinthel_ , for all your help."

Dís nodded. "Just be sure to come and find me if you get any trouble from those **_gamil kakhuf_**."

Alana laughed at Dís' words, but offered an agreeing nod nonetheless, and with a parting grin Alana headed for the council room.

It wasn't far from the royal suites, and Alana was beaten there only by Thorin, who offered a smile from his place a few feet from the table when he looked her way.

" ** _Sasakhabiya abnâmul, (You look beautiful,)_** " he told her.

Alana rolled her eyes. "Oh yes, because Dís redoing my hair made all the difference in the world," she shot back with a grin, before planting a playful peck on his lips. "But thank you, all the same."

Thorin chuckled at her behaviour, taking her hands in his and looking up at her, his eyes becoming serious. "How do you feel?"

"I'm feeling okay, actually," she said, smiling. "Your sister and I spoke while she was helping me and... it helped me to get rid of my nerves, oddly enough. It wasn't the sort of conversation that would normally do that, but–"

"You're far from a normal woman," he finished with a cheeky wink. Alana laughed, not denying it, and not ashamed of it either.

"Such a charmer you are, Master Oakenshield."

Thorin's answering grin was wide and borderline mischievous, before they were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Three of the twelve dwarves in the council entered, offering polite inclinations of their heads to Thorin and Alana, before taking their seats.

Thorin tilted his head back to Alana. "Still feeling alright?"

Alana rolled her eyes. "I'm _fine_ , Thorin. You know you can't afford to check on me every five seconds once the council has begun – just take my word for it, okay?"

Thorin cocked an eyebrow, but his lips were threatening to twitch up into a smile again. "As you wish, my Lady."

The two paused when a seven more Lords came in, followed at last by Balin, who closed the door behind him. With the whole council now present, Alana and Thorin moved to take their seats at the table. Thorin sat at the head of the table, of course, and Alana sat on the chair to his immediate right.

"As you were all present at this morning's meeting, you know why we are here." Thorin met the eyes of every member of the council as he spoke, his gaze hard and stern. "You have been given several weeks to think on this – whether you have been directed to or not, it cannot be denied that you all have your thoughts about my betrothal to the Lady Alana. I would ask now that each of you share your opinions. Do not be afraid to speak honestly, but I would ask that you remain open-minded for whatever we may wish to say to you in return."

No one said anything for a moment, none of them wanting to be the first, before Balin shifted in his chair. All eyes were instantly on him.

The white haired dwarf gave a wry smile. "I'm sure it's no secret that I have known the lass the longest of all but the King," he began, shooting Alana a covert wink. "And I like to think I am a good judge of character. We travelled together for many months last year, and I personally spoke to her many times during the journey about what was blooming between her and our esteemed King." Alana let out a quiet snort at that, much to the surprise of many near her, but she couldn't help but smile in remembrance of those talks. Balin also had a hint of a smile on his face as he continued. "Lady Alana has multiple times shown her ability to be a just and fair leader – she has been one of the leaders of her own kind since she was just seventeen. And what happened to her in Goblin Town speaks for itself; her loyalty is unwavering. I have said this before, and I shall say it a thousand more times if it proves necessary: I can think of no one better to take up the throne by our King's side."

"For those of us who are unaware," an elderly dwarf with deep wrinkles and paling hair piped up, his beard neatly tied into a single braid down his front, "might I inquire as to exactly _what_ happened in the goblin tunnels? It is difficult to tell what is true and what is false when all one hears is rumour and speculation."

Thorin glanced at Alana, who just shrugged noncommittally. He turned back to face the suddenly very curious council. "When our Company was incarcerated by the goblins in the mountains," he began, "the goblin King threatened to torture young Master Ori to get the information he wanted about where we were heading. Lady Alana stepped in to stop it, and in doing so was... _harmed_... in his place."

"And did she tell him?" a younger dwarf asked, his beard and hair thick, and a dull bronze in colour. His eyes were almost black, and there was a coldness to them that immediately put Alana on edge.

Thorin quirked an eyebrow. "No," he answered firmly. "She did not. Despite their best efforts, the destination of our journey remained something they did not find out – regardless of the fact the torture nearly killed her."

Alana quirked an eyebrow at him. "That was more having my foot torn to shreds by a warg, I would say," she interjected, smiling when Thorin turned to her.

He shook his head. "You did not see what I did," he countered. "Your foot injury might have been severe, but it was the wounds on your back that caused Oin to fear for your life."

"Aye, lass," Balin cut in. "'Tis true. That was a long night if ever there was one. For all of us."

Alana blinked, slightly startled to learn that, but before she could speak the dark eyed dwarf spoke up again.

"Is it also true that she shares the blood of the old Kings of Arnor?"

Thorin didn't so much as bat an eyelid, though Alana stiffened almost imperceptibly. "She does," Thorin said. "She is, in fact, one of the few that are known to be connected to that line."

"Royal blood?" a new voice piped up, this coming from a grey haired dwarf with a beard long enough that he could tuck it into his belt if he chose to. He settled back further into his chair. "Well then," he stated at length, "there is little left to say on my behalf. Only this; if she is truly of a King's blood, then you have my support as well."

Thorin titled his head to the side. "Thank you, Lord Avar."

"When was it that she was gifted with her dwarfish braids, my Lord?" another older dwarf questioned. He was the shortest in the group, with thick eyebrows and a stern face, though his eyes seemed kind. "That is not a gesture to be so lightly overlooked."

Thorin hummed thoughtfully. "If my memory serves me, Alana received her braids in the latter half of August. Just before we arrived at the edge of Mirkwood, and just after we left the house of the skin-changer, Beorn."

"And there were no protests against it?"

"None at all," Balin cut in, his word being better to rely on, since Thorin did not take part in the original conversation to plan giving Alana her braids. "It was not a matter of 'if', but simply 'when'."

The dwarf Lord nodded. "To have such vehement support from not just one, but thirteen, is a great achievement, my Lady," he said, bowing his head to the side. "And I have heard word that Lord Dain of the Iron Hills also supports your union to his cousin. As such, I give my support as well."

"I myself am, at present, undecided," another dwarf piped up, a contemplative frown on his face. "It cannot be denied that you are woman in possession of great honour and skill, not to mention kindness and compassion, as any Queen should be. Already you have selflessly wandered into dangerous grounds to save the lives of a few miners." Alana's eyes flashed at that, not liking the way he spoke of the miners as if their lives were worth less than his, but a subtle glance from Thorin stopped her from speaking out. The dwarf Lord continued on, oblivious. "But the fact remains that you are not a dwarrowdam. The blood of the royal line would no longer be pure should you birth any children."

"That is true," yet another new voice piped up, this time coming from a dwarf with a beard almost as short as Thorin's, his eyes deep-set and weary. "But this, like many of the royal unions of our past, will improve our ties to other kingdoms. If the Lady Alana is a blood relative of the Kings of Arnor, then she will be a relative of the King of Gondor, if and when he returns. Gondor is a powerful kingdom, and a strong ally to have."

"The Gondorian line has ended," the black-eyed dwarf cut in sharply. "None but a direct descendent of the old Kings could reclaim the throne, and no such man exists. A marriage to someone who is only distantly connected to that line would offer no benefits."

Thorin and Alana exchanged looks, Thorin questioning, Alana troubled. She knew that informing these dwarves of the truth of her lineage would be a huge aid to their case, but Aragorn was neither old enough to defend himself, nor ready to learn of his place in the world. And if they said anything, there might be a chance that he found out before his time. Knowing Thorin would leave this entirely up to her, she instead turned to Balin, silently asking for his opinion. He paused, eyes drifting to his left, at some of the council members, before inhaling and offering a nod.

"Would you care to include us in your silent conversation, Lady Alana?" the cold dwarf asked, his voice clearly disapproving.

Alana met his eyes, her own firm and hard. "The Gondorian line remains intact," she told him sharply, causing something of a stir amongst the others. "The throne remains unclaimed, yes, but there are those alive who have the right to take it back." She paused, thinking through her words very carefully. "There is one who lived in my village before it was destroyed, whose name is Aragorn. He is the direct heir of Elendil, and the rightful King of Gondor."

"Then why has he not reclaimed the throne?" a silver haired dwarf asked curiously, his eyes the colour of deep amber.

Alana tilted her head to the side. "The time is not right," she stated calmly, then decided to add on a little more. "The dúnedain have their duties in the west. At the present time, those duties cannot be abandoned; the halflings of the Shire have no desire to see battle, and with the growing darkness, the presence of the dúnedain Rangers is more necessary now than it has been for a long time."

"Would you tell us about your people, Lady Alana?" the dwarf Lord asked, and Alana blinked in response, before acquiescing.

"The dúnedain are not so different than the men of Rohan and Gondor. Their lives stretch longer, and any one of them may live to see two hundred winters if they are lucky, though those of the King's line tend to live longer." She paused, frowning. "By and large, they are peaceful, hardworking folk – farmers and the like. Most men are taught how to handle a blade, and some women also learn to defend themselves, though it is not the norm for them to do so. Some of our kind became Rangers, like myself. Rangers are trained to track and hunt, and are some of the greatest warriors of the race of men. As I said, some have taken up position around the Shire, protecting the hobbits from the dark beings that stray too close to that place. Others simply wander the northern lands, living in solitude, though their main focus is also the defeat of any enemies they find." She let out a thoughtful hum. "Though the Rangers are scattered, they are still under the command of the Chieftain. On the rare occasion that they are needed, it is in him that their allegiances lie, as he is the heir of Elendil; to be protected above all others."

"And are there many women amongst the ranks of the Rangers, Lady Alana?" the dark-eyed dwarf asked, his gaze probing.

Alana met his gaze evenly, though there was a hint of warning there. She sensed something off about this Lord, and guessed he was probably one of the ones Dís had warned her about. In that single look, she informed him that she would not be letting her guard down around him, and he responded in turn with a condescending smirk. All this happened in less than a second, and no one seemed to notice the exchange.

"Not many, no." Her answer was a little more curt now, though she focused on smoothing out her voice when she realised how it sounded. "Most women choose a simpler life, and, generally speaking, they are encouraged to do so. Those that choose to become a Ranger are, however, supported as much as the men, and many of the Rangers' greatest warriors over time have been women."

The silver haired dwarf hummed thoughtfully. "There are certainly benefits to having a Queen who can fend for herself, as well as protect her people," he mused. "Your actions in the Battle of the Five Armies are well known to those in the mountain now."

Alana smiled, a touch of sadness to it. "I'm sure a lot of what is said about it is untrue. I fought in that battle, yes, but so did hundreds of others – some of whom did not come out of that battle alive, but are more deserving of praise than I."

"And yet some of those that survived the battle owe their lives to you," he countered, and Alana glanced at him, perplexed. The old dwarf smiled. "Did you know that my nephew was part of Dain's army before we moved here? He has said many times that his life was saved by you during the battle – that you intercepted a blade meant to take him out, that he had known he could not stop." She was stunned, unable to think of anything to say. She knew she had probably saved a few lives that day, just as many others would likely have saved her without her knowing, but it was odd to think that someone remembered her as the one to save him. The old dwarf smiled. "Perhaps that makes me biased," he said, "but anyone who can put their life on the line to save someone else deserves, if nothing else, the utmost respect. You have gained that in many of the people, and to have won the stubborn heart of our King is no small feat." He winked over at Thorin, who rolled his eyes fondly at the dwarf, and Alana realised (perhaps belatedly) that he had probably known an awful lot of these dwarves for most of his life. They were more than just the King's council – many of these dwarves were likely also his personal friends. "For that reason, and many others, I shall say that I would be proud to have you as my Queen."

* * *

Alana was rather surprised to walk out of the council hall feeling so heartened. Six of the council had given their support for the marriage, three were undecided, and only two had declared that they were against it. Thorin told her later that these two were indeed Lords Boitu and Venrik, and that they would always have been their greatest opponents.

Lord Boitu was the younger dwarf, with the dark eyes – though he was still nearing his 160th birthday, apparently. Lord Venrik had been silent for the entirety of the meeting, and she wouldn't have known he was there at all had he not decided to speak his opinion, being one of the last to do so. He was quiet and calm, with a demeanour that was the antithesis of aggressive, but Thorin told her that he was as sly and cunning as a fox, and would be the greater threat. Boitu was hard-headed and generally hot-tempered, but he was mostly just bark and no bite.

Venrik was unfalteringly loyal to the Durin line – he had proved that many times – but it was clear that loyalty came at a price. His daughter had been a possible suitor for Thorin since he was just a hundred, the girl being around forty years younger, and Thorin admitted that he might have considered marrying her once upon a time. She was beautiful and generally a kind woman, but she had a sinister dark side that she had shown to him once – one that had been born of her short temper, and which consequently destroyed all chance she ever had of becoming his wife. Neither she nor Lord Venrik knew that, so they continued to hope in vain.

Boitu's sister, Bergni, was every bit a proper dam, with a much calmer temperament than her brother. But she was the epitome of the term 'weak-willed'. She blindly did as her brother asked, no matter how uncomfortable it made her. Thorin pitied her for the situation she had been forced into, having worked out that she had no desire to be there, but she lacked the courage to break herself out of it. Upon being told this, Alana pitied her too, and mentally began making plans to meet and talk to this poor dwarrowdam.

"That was rather successful, I would say," Thorin noted, drawing her from her thoughts.

Alana glanced down at him and smiled. "I agree. I had no idea there were so many rumours floating around about me. Although I must say, my favourite is the one about me being some kind of enchantress. I had to work very hard not to laugh out loud when I heard that."

Thorin smirked up at her. "I almost believe it," he said off-handedly, and Alana gaped at him. His face broke into a grin. "You should not look so surprised; Lord Findur was quite right when he said winning my heart was no small feat – many have attempted such a thing over the years, and failed. You achieved it without trying. If nothing else, you are enchanting to me."

Alana shook her head, smiling in faint amusement. "You are such a charmer," she grumbled.

Thorin laughed. "Only with you, **_atamanel_**. Though I'm glad to hear my efforts are not in vain."

Alana scoffed. "You could be the least charming person to have ever walked through Middle Earth and it wouldn't matter – I'd still love you. Believe me, your charm, though appreciated, gets you practically nowhere."

Chuckling again, Thorin tilted his head to the side. "Noted." He paused in the middle of the hallway, causing her to do the same, turning to him with a curious expression on her face. "Please don't worry yourself over Lord Boitu and Lord Venrik. Their opposition may delay things slightly, but I stand by my promise."

"Thorin, I know that," she said, smiling down at him. "I trust you, and I know you will keep your word. Believe me, those Lords only make me more determined to prove myself worthy of you."

Thorin shook his head. "You have nothing to prove, **_melhekhinhul_**."

Alana chuckled. "I appreciate the sentiment, my Lord, but I think you may be slightly biased in your opinion."

"That may be so, but that doesn't make it any less true." He smiled up at her, grasping her hands in his. "One day," he murmured, "you will learn to see yourself as I see you. Until then, I will spend every day reminding you, if that's what it takes." One of his hands moved to rest on her cheek, his eyes so soft that it caused Alana's breath to catch in her throat. " _Gi melin_."

Alana blinked, surprised by the whisper of elvish flowing from him lips, before she beamed at him and slammed her lips down on his, murmuring her words of love against them. They parted every few seconds to draw breath, before their lips melded once more, and they became completely oblivious to the world around them.

The countdown to the day of their wedding had officially begun. And neither of them believed it could possibly come fast enough.


	9. Approval

Thorin's coronation was to be attended by dignitaries from many of the kingdoms east of the Misty Mountains, and some to the west as well. With some gentle urging from Alana, Thorin agreed to open the doors of Erebor to men, dwarves and elves alike, for the first time since Thror's own coronation. Envoys from Rohan, Gondor, Dale, Lothlórien, Mirkwood, the Iron Hills, and Rivendell had all sent word that their invitations had been accepted.

The first of the guests arrived six days before the day of the coronation. A party of five arrived from the plains of Rohan, all strong and riding stunning warhorses, all but one bearing the long blonde hair that was so common in the land of the horselords. Three of those to arrive were simply guards, but the other two were the King's advisor and the King himself.

Fengel, son of Folcwine, had something of a reputation, heard even by those miles away. Alana had never met the man himself, but had visited the city of Edoras, and had heard many things about the elderly King. First and foremost was that his son, Prince Thengel, had left Rohan at a young age, after various quarrels and disagreements with his father. Another thing she'd heard was that, after the deaths of his two brothers, Fengel had become overly doted on, and had quickly become spoilt and greedy. She was not surprised that he had decided to come to Erebor, even if only to bear witness to its riches. 

Thankfully, with the coronation so close, Alana did not have to be there to greet the King, and was also unlikely to run into him by chance, what with the guest houses being on the opposite end of the market to the royal suites. 

The day after the men of Rohan arrived, so too came the elves of Rivendell and the dwarves of the Iron Hills. Alana was able to spare only a few minutes from her work to greet Lord Elrond, who had come with his sons and the Lord Glorfindel. Her mother and brother also came to greet the elven Lords, and happily agreed to lead them to their houses, while Alana returned to the celebration hall to continue setting up for the coronation.

Three days before the coronation marked the arrival of the men of Gondor – five guards, along with the son of the Steward. Ecthelion proved to be a kind man, though Alana felt a little strange interacting with him, knowing that his family was technically still under the command of hers – not that he knew this, and not that she had any intention of telling him this either. He told her of Denethor, his son, and of his father, Turgon, and when asked, he told her of the people of Gondor. They were safe and happy, prospering under the Steward's rule, and this gladdened her heart more than she could say. When Ecthelion asked her about her curiosity, she simply told him that her ancestors came from Gondor, and that she felt a connection to the kingdom through her bloodline. It wasn't exactly a lie, and he certainly seemed to accept it as an answer.

That night, Thorin joined Alana in her chambers, much to her surprise.

"Are you sure you should be here, Thorin?" she asked. "So close to the coronation, regardless of our intentions to marry, being caught in my chambers after dark is the last thing you want to happen."

Thorin smiled. "And since when have propriety and reputation been of any importance to you?"

"Since my future husband reclaimed his homeland," she shot back, though her lips twitched up at the corners. "Immediately after the war, things were different. Nightmares are nothing to laugh at, and we all needed each other's support. But those times have passed, and now we must be careful. Especially with our wedding on the line."

Thorin smiled, and admitted, "Our wedding is what I have come here to talk about."

Alana froze. "... Oh." Over the past weeks, Thorin and Alana had attended meeting after meeting, trying repeatedly to sway the last of the dwarves in the council in favour of their request. Each time she had stepped out of that room, Alana had felt conflicted over whether or not they'd actually ever achieved anything (though Thorin was always quick to reassure her that, yes, they _were_ making progress).

Alana blinked, then cleared her head with a quick shake. "What about it?"

"The date is set – June 10th."

Her mouth fell slack. "You... You mean the council said _yes_?"

Thorin smiled broadly at her. "Those who were undecided before have all gone in favour of the union. By dwarfish tradition, only three quarters of the council need to agree before a decision is considered made. With ten out of the twelve members of the council in favour..."

"We're getting married?" she asked breathlessly, hardly daring to believe it.

He nodded, eyes crinkling at the sides. "We are."

An elated squeak left Alana's lips, before she bodily threw herself at Thorin, her arms wrapping around his neck. Thorin's arms came to make a brace around her back, and he tilted his head up to meet her lips in a fervent kiss. Alana's hands quickly found their way into his hair, gently tugging at the long strands, and Thorin responded in return by pulling her even closer against him, until there was no space between them. 

A knock on the door had them reluctantly pulling apart.

"Alana?"

Alana chuckled. "My mother's timing is nothing, if not impeccable," she grumbled, kissing Thorin quickly, before untangling herself from his hold and heading to the door. She pulled it open and smiled at Gilraen.

The blonde woman blinked, then her eyes skipped over Alana's shoulder to see Thorin there. Something in her face shifted, an emotion Alana couldn't really name appearing on her face, before Gilraen became almost amused. "Am I interrupting?" she asked, an edge of coyness to her voice that had Alana glaring half-heartedly at her.

"No, actually," Alana replied blandly. "Come on in."

Gilraen entered hesitantly, offering Thorin a polite smile and receiving a nod in return, before Thorin turned to Alana. "I'll leave you to it," he told her, approaching her and taking her hand. She beamed down at him, and he couldn't resist smiling broadly in return. " ** _Zann galikh, amrâlimê, (Good night, my love.)_** "

Alana repeated his words, then watched him leave with a smile on her face, before turning to her mother.

"What is it you wished to see me about?"

Gilraen sat on the edge of her bed. "I don't think that's important at the moment," she murmured. "You seem suddenly incredibly happy. Did something happen?"

Alana's soft smile morphed into a grin, her joy all but radiating off her. She sighed happily, collapsing back onto her bed beside Gilraen. "I'm getting married," she murmured dreamily.

Gilraen blinked. "You knew that already, Alana," she pointed out.

Alana rolled her eyes, laughing lightly. "No, I mean it's definite now. The council approved, and the date is set." She let out an excited squeak. "It's finally happening!"

Gilraen's face lit up. "When?"

"June 10th, Thorin said," the Ranger replied instantly, sitting up again and looking at her mother. "Please say you'll be there, _naneth_. _Gin iallon. (I beg of you.)_ "

Gilraen nodded. "Of course, _pinig_. And now that we know when it is, I'll help with some of the preparations. Are you having a wedding that follows the traditions of men or dwarves?"

"A mix of both," Alana said with a smile. "Though they are similar enough that you almost wouldn't be able to tell them apart. Dwarves exchange braids instead of rings, but Thorin and I have agreed that we will have both. And, of course, there's the fact that my wedding day will also be my coronation day." Her eyes widened. "By Eru...!"

Gilraen tensed in alarm. "What is it?"

"I'm going to be Queen," Alana breathed. She blinked, then looked at her mother's once again bemused expression. "I knew that before, of course I did, but now it's so close and so very _real_ and... Mahal, _naneth_ , it's terrifying! I don't know anything about being a Queen! What if I'm a terrible Queen? What if everyone thinks they've made a huge mistake in–"

Hand covering her daughter's mouth, Gilraen cut in firmly. "Alana, you have been the Queen for these people since the moment the Battle of the Five Armies ended. Perhaps you did not hold the title officially, but you have nonetheless been a leader to them and it is undeniable they look up to you as their ruler. Just like Thorin. You should have more faith in yourself, Alana. I'm sure very little will change."

Alana exhaled heavily, removing her mother's hand from her mouth. "Yes, I suppose you're right. Everything's just suddenly hitting me so hard, you know? Thorin's coronation is in _two days!_ And yet I feel like there's so much more to do before the time comes." She sighed. "Sorry, I think I'm just stressed. Once the coronation is over, I should be better."

Gilraen chuckled. "Oh, you poor, naïve little girl." Alana frowned at her mother and opened her mouth to protest, but Gilraen cut her off again. "The weeks approaching your wedding will be some of the most chaotic of your life – doubly so for you, since, as you so aptly pointed out, you are being coronated on the same day. You won't have a moment's peace until the set date, I would wager."

Alana groaned, flopping back on her bed. Then her smile appeared once more. "It'll be worth it," she said firmly.

Gilraen laughed airily. "Of course it will; you're getting married! It'll be the happiest moment of your life. Until you have your first child, anyway."

"Oh dear, let's not go that far, please." Alana shook her head. "One thing at a time, _naneth_. That's about all I can cope with right now."

Gilraen scoffed. "Don't act as if you haven't thought about it. You are your mother's daughter, after all."

Alana rolled her eyes. "Dreams of the future tend to have a slightly different meaning when your life – and the life of your love, for that matter – are under threat. Of course I've thought about it! I've also thought about losing all that, and..." She sighed. "Sorry," she said. "You're the last person I should be talking to about this. You know exactly how I felt, I'm sure."

Gilraen smiled sadly. "I do," she stated simply. "And you're right, it does hurt. I miss your father too, Alana; every day of my life. But I have you still, and I have your brother. And, frankly, I'm possibly more excited by the idea of you having children than you are!"

Alana blinked, tilted her head up to look at her mother. "Really?"

Nodding, Gilraen leaned back, lying beside Alana and gently entwining their fingers. "Really. I will admit, seeing Thorin for the first time surprised me – not just because he's a dwarf, but because he's so intimidating and so powerful and just so..."

" _Thorin_ ," Alana finished with a laugh.

Gilraen smiled. "Yes, I suppose it is rather unique to him. I honestly couldn't understand it at first – I thought he was so stern and severe, and he was _that_ sort of person that you've been butting heads with your entire life. But he's completely different around you. You soften him up, and I know how much he adores you. It's like you bring out a whole new side of him. You, and his nephews, too." Gilraen glanced to the side, meeting Alana's warm eyes, and Gilraen lifted a hand to gently stroke Alana's cheek. "You're such a good soul," she murmured softly. "And so is he. And you two truly are meant to be; you fit together like the pieces of a puzzle." Gilraen moved her head to stare at the ceiling. "Every time I see you two together, I can see how happy you are. I know that'll never fade. It's thoughts like that which make me think of your future – where you have children of your own. You'll be amazing parents. And I know it'll be hard to find children in this world who will be more loved than them." Gilraen smiled. "Almost more than anything, I want to be there to see it. To see you grow up into the mother I know you can be."

Alana squeezed her mother's hand. "Thank you," she whispered. "And you're right – I _have_ thought about it. More than once. It's something that excites me as much as it scares me."

"When the time comes, there'll be no fear," Gilraen told her. "You'll have moments of doubt, I'm sure, but you won't be afraid. Because you'll know you can do it, and you'll know you have all the support in the world."

Alana smiled. "I have the biggest family ever," she whispered in quiet awe, and Gilraen laughed.

"That you do. It's a family I've no doubt will continue to grow." She pressed a kiss to Alana's forehead, and then sat up. "Well, I think I must retire for the night."

Alana laughed, sitting up as well. " _Naneth_ , you never told me what you came in here to say in the first place."

Gilraen hummed. "That's true. Well, it's nothing major – certainly, the news of your wedding is far more important. But, if you want to know, Kili invited Estel to go out hunting with him in the morning. I know you're busy, but I came to ask if you'd be able to accompany them."

Alana frowned. "Estel's going hunting? In the forest?"

"From what I understand, yes." Gilraen frowned. "I know there is no danger out there, and that Kili will keep an eye on him, but... Well, I'm his mother. I worry."

Alana nodded slowly. "I understand, but I'm afraid I'll be far too busy in the morning. There's nothing I can do." 

Gilraen smiled in understanding, then left Alana alone.

The Ranger sat on her bed in silence, frowning. Her stomach was churning with mixed feelings – on the one hand, she was pleased that Aragorn was going out into the world, putting all his hard work into practice. On the other hand, it stung that he hadn't asked her to do it. Her mother was right that Kili would look after him, and she had nothing to worry about, but... it had always been her plan to teach Aragorn how to hunt, and track, and survive alone in the wild. She just hadn't realised that, in coming to Erebor, and in becoming Thorin's wife, she would be losing any chance she had of teaching her brother such skills. Lord Elrond would take over his training, along with Elladan and Elrohir and probably some of the existing Rangers, and she would be here, ruling over the dwarves. 

She'd always known she'd be sacrificing a lot to stay with Thorin, had spent _hours_ in turmoil over which path to choose. Thinking about it hypothetically and experiencing the reality of her choice were two very different things.

When Alana retired for the night, she did so with sorrow weighing on her heart, and before she fell asleep she silently mourned the loss of the life she had always thought she'd lead. And if she let slip a few tears, she never told anyone.

* * *

The elves of Mirkwood and Lothlórien arrived together the next morning, King Thranduil and Lady Galadriel at the lead, followed by a few of their own guards. Alana was unsurprised to see Tauriel amongst those who had arrived with the King, though was rather shocked to see the _elleth_ now had a scar on her left cheek – dark and jagged. Tauriel wore the scar with pride, but Alana knew that, in the eyes of Tauriel's kin, her beauty was forever tarnished. For the woodland elves, that was an almost damning thing; to have your beauty taken away meant losing almost all chance of finding someone to love and marry. Despite their rocky relationship, Alana couldn't help but pity the Captain, for a moment. Then that feeling cleared when she remembered that Tauriel would _despise_ being pitied.

She was, however, surprised (and disheartened) to note that Legolas was not amongst the congregation of Mirkwood elves.

Alana was directed by Thorin to lead the elves to their guest suites, as the soon-to-be dwarf King still had a wary disposition towards elfkind, though he seemed to no longer openly abhor them. Lord Celeborn had remained in Lothlórien to look after it, and Alana quickly learned that Legolas had headed to the west, having finally convinced his father to allow him to further explore the world.

Alana was glad that her tentative truce with the elven King proved to have remained intact, though they were still not quite _friendly_ with one another. Lady Galadriel was as warm and soothing as ever, and full-heartedly congratulated Alana on her upcoming wedding, though informed her that she thought it unlikely that she would be able to attend. Alana was saddened to learn this, but understood, knowing the Lady of Light had far more important things to focus on. King Thranduil made no comment at all about the wedding, and Alana guessed that was because he had no idea if he'd even be invited.

Heck, _she_ didn't even know that.

That day was filled with the hectic bustle of last-minute preparations. The celebration hall's new banners were hung on the wall, all of them lovingly designed and made to last – at the very least – a lifetime. Dozens of torches and hanging braziers lit the room, bathing it in a mellow orange glow and highlighting the sheer enormity of the space.

Thousands could probably fit under this one ceiling, and many hundreds were going to.

The coronation ceremony was to take place at noon, where the dwarves, elves and men were expected to attend in their finery to watch as Thorin was crowned King of Erebor, and the brothers became official Princes. Following that, the room would empty, people returning home to change into their ordinary clothes. While that happened, the massive tables would be brought into the celebration hall and laden with food. From there, a great feast would occur, and wouldn't end until evening the next day, at which point the coronation would be officially concluded. 

Alana visited the forges, collecting Fili and Kili's finished crowns from Galmar. Both were beautiful and strong, made predominantly of silver, with gold and hardened steel inlays. At the centre of each crown was the symbol that each Prince had chosen for themselves – besides that, they were identical. The crowns were obviously not as grand as that of the King, but Alana smiled to herself nonetheless, knowing they would suit the brothers remarkably well. She thanked the smith heartily, offering a larger payment for the crowns than was originally agreed. He didn't protest to that, though Alana figured he wouldn't.

Her next trip was to the seamstress, who had been tasked with making the Princes' ceremonial clothing, along with Alana's. These, too, came out perfectly. Both the Princes had black breeches and grey undershirts, and silver belts with buckles bearing the crest of the Durin line. Fili's tunic and overcoat were both a deep red, so dark they were almost black. Kili's were identical in style, but were instead deep blue.

Alana's dress was a rich sapphire blue, with a thick, draping sleeves. A surcoat had been sown into the design, darker than the rest of the dress. The dress came with a gold belt to go over the top, and an emerald necklace.

Alana took the clothes back to the royal suites, placing her own outfit on her bed, complete with the dark blue shoes Dís had delivered to her earlier. She then headed to Fili's room, knocking on the door. The Prince opened it a moment later, clad only in his breeches and loose undershirt.

Alana blinked at him. "Don't tell me you've only just gotten out of bed," she teased, only half serious, as Fili stepped aside to let her in.

"Of course not," he scoffed, grinning at her. "I do, however, have some oaths to memorise."

Nodding, Alana held out his clothes. "For you, Prince Fili."

He rolled his eyes, taking the clothes and looking them over. He grinned. "I like them," he noted. "Though they're a little less blue than I thought they'd be."

Alana chuckled. "Yes, I had the same reaction. Apparently, tradition states that, while the King and second-in-line wear deep blue, the heir wears red. Personally I think that's a bit mad, but there you go." Fili grinned again, moving over to hang up his clothes in his wardrobe. Alana smiled at his back. "Are you nervous?" she asked, perching on his bed.

Fili hesitated a moment, then sighed. "A little," he admitted. "I know that not much will change, and Thorin's been preparing me for this moment my entire life, but it's nonetheless daunting."

Alana scoffed. "Oh, you'll be fine."

He cocked an eyebrow at her. "Thanks for that show of understanding, Alana," he grumbled.

With a smile, Alana stood up and took his hands between her own, squeezing them gently. "I understand," she told him softly. "But I do not share your concerns. I know that you will take up this role with all the grace and courage that you hold in that big heart of yours, and you will be an amazing Prince." She pressed a kiss to his forehead. "You know, there is a reason I told you that you have the heart of a lion; it is because you do. I could not possibly be more proud of you, Fee."

Fili returned her smile. "Thank you, auntie. That means a lot." He shot her a grin. "Especially since you probably know how I'm feeling."

Huffing, Alana nodded. "I do, yeah."

"Oh, and I heard your wedding has finally been approved," Fili added with another wide grin, which Alana was powerless to stop herself from mirroring. Alana didn't mind the sudden topic change; she was just happy that he was feeling better now. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she murmured, still grinning. Then she shook her head and picked up Kili's clothes. "Well, I shan't keep you from your studying. I have your brother's clothes to deliver, and about a thousand other things to check over before I retire." She smiled softly at him. "I guess, then, that I'll see you in the morning."

Fili nodded. "Until then, **_irak'amad_**."

With a parting smile, Alana swept out of the room to return to her duties.


End file.
